


Going Back

by Quietier



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety, Canon-Typical Violence, Crushes, Crying, Destruction, Dystopian Future, Exhaustion, Internal Conflict, Made by Author Heart, Multi, Older Harry Potter, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reunions, Spiritual Time Travel, Temporary Character Death, Time Travel, Time Turner, magical time travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2018-12-23 02:07:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11979852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quietier/pseuds/Quietier
Summary: The Great Wizarding War had far more casualties than expected. Too many important lives were lost, such as Hermione and Ron, who were set to be married after war ended.Now Harry needs to find a way back, find a way to change everything. He needs to find a time turner and go back.*HIATUS: IT •WILL• BE CONTINUED*





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I know Birds of a Feather isn't finished, but like I said in the summary, I'll be re-reading the series. I've decided to create this story to fit right along side the canon, except with Harry knowing what will happen in the future.  
> The relationship of Harry and Snape will be a VERY slow build at the beginning, so don't expect much Snarry until much later chapters.  
> It's been too long since I've read the Harry Potter books, so hopefully I'll be able to create this story well to loosely fit with the cannon. Hope you enjoy!

Harry had done it. He was able to kill The Dark Lord Voldemort, but not without a huge cost. Hogwarts was completely destroyed, and the casualties were too high to count. He knows many people who died. Hermione. The Weasleys. Neville. Even the Malfoys. Everyone he knew. Everyone he cared for. Tired green eyes scan the rubble of the once proud standing Hogwarts.

Rocks crunch beneath his shoes as he slowly walks deeper into what was once Hogwarts property. Long hours pass by as he loses himself to his thoughts.

After a while, he decides to visit the now empty town of Hogsmeade. His eyes catch on the shrieking shack, which is barely standing on its own. He quietly walks up to it, peering into the darkened house. He quietly casts Lumos, lighting up the ruined building as he looks around. He flinches when he sees the bloodied body of Severus Snape. The war only ended 2 days ago, so the cleanup effort has only just started. Most bodies were still in the same place they were killed.

He quietly walks up to the corpse, kneeling in front of it. His hand slides into his pocket, grasping tightly at the small bottle of memories Snape gave him before he died… He truly did care about him… He looks up to the pale face of Snape. He looks so much older, his eyes sunken and his pale skin made to look paler because of the cold hand of death. He reaches up and quietly touches his chest, tears welling in his eyes. 

After a few quiet moments of contemplating, he slips his hand into Snape’s robes, pulling out his wand. He holds it gently, wrapping his fingers around the base, where Severus would have gripped it. A warm sensation runs up his arm, dark green and scarlet strands of magic curling around his arm. He watches it with wide eyes as it sinks into his skin, leaving him feeling warm. He tightens his grip on the wand as tears threaten to run down his cheeks. That was Snape’s magic… It trusted him with the wand. He feels cold shame run over him as he remembers how he treated Snape… The more he thinks, the more he realizes how obvious it was that he did care for him. He curses silently, grabbing Snape’s cold hand with his free one. He's so cold…

He steels his resolve and stands up, gathering Snape’s body into his arms. He uses a feather-light charm on the body to make it easier, even though it seems like Snape had lost a lot of weight before hand. He’d grown a few more inches in the last few years, so he didn't have to drag his feet on the ground. He quietly walks out of the crumbling building, apparating to a quiet area in the forest. It's next to a small lake, with wild flowers growing all around. 

He kneels and sets down Snape's body onto a patch of grass surrounded by wild lilies. He pulls out a small handkerchief, dipping it into the lake, before dabbing at and wiping away the blood from his face and neck. He knows he could use magic to do this, but he feels like that's too impersonal. He deserves this, and much more. But this is the only thing he can give him.

He stares at his body for a moment longer, before he looks away. He should actually bury him… He takes out his wand, waving it slightly. A large section of dirt moves, creating a shallow hole. He sets down his wand and carefully picks up the body, setting it into the shallow grave gently. He considers burying Snape with his wand, but decides against it, instead, keeping it close to him, as a reminder of sorts. He stands up, quietly staring for a long moment. 

He's always liked Professor Snape… Even when he was cold to him. There was just an air about him that he liked. When he found out he was protecting him for most of his life, he… Well, truthfully developed a crush. Now he's never going to be able to tell him, not that he would have any way…

After a few minutes of sliding the dirt back over Snape's body, he jolts as he remembers something very important. The time turner! Of course, how could he forget? He gives a flick of his wand, gently covering up the hole with the rest of the dirt. He gathers a few flowers, then puts together a makeshift tombstone, setting the stone and flowers at the top of his grave. He needs to find the time turner…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He's spent countless hours, days, even months trying to figure out the Time Turner. It's been long… so long… nearly 17 years now. The wizarding world has nearly fallen apart. Everyone else has given up. Lost hope. He scratches at the stubble on his chin as he inspects the small box in front of him for what seems like the millionth time.

He was able to find the time turner, not even a year after he starting to look for it. It only took that long because it was charmed with notice-me-not. The only problem was that it's sealed in a small box. No one has been able to open it, no matter what spells they used. He has no idea what spell was used to keep it closed, but he sure as hell is going to find out how to break it. He rarely talks with anyone. The Weasleys try in touch, but with nearly half of their children dead, they don't have much spirit anymore.

He's poured countless hours into trying to open it, none of which seem to work. A warm tingling in his hidden breast pocket of his robe pulls him out of his thoughts. Ah, Snape’s wand. He's always kept it with him, as a reminder of why he's trying to do this, and it's not the first time it's started to buzz with energy. He reaches into his robes and pulls out the wand, rolling over in his hand as he quietly contemplates new ways to open the damn box. 

Suddenly, a soft spark of magic winds between his wand and Snape’s. He's never thought of using them as one to break open the box! He's not sure how well Snape’s wand will work with his magic, but he's willing to try. He picks up his own wand and grasps it carefully in his left hand. Be presses the tips of the wands to the box and concentrates his magic to flow through the wands. A bright spark of energy crackles through the air, and he's left gasping. So much of his magic was pulled out of him…

He goes limp in his seat as he gasps softly, before looking at the box… it's blackened and smoking, and he can see that it cracked open slightly! He surges forward, prying open the burnt box, letting out a sob of relief as he sees the golden, glittering time turner. He cradles it in his hands, carefully standing up and rushing to his room with it. 

He has no idea if he's going to keep the things with him or not, so he doesn't risk it. He checks throughout his empty, unused room for a moment longer before he walks back out, grabbing both wands. It's probably a bad idea to bring Snape’s, but he can't bear to part with it.

After a quick shower and an apple to eat, he decides to wait a day before he leaves. With the magic drain from just opening the box, he should gather his energy. He carefully sets the wands and time turner down into his school chest that he's kept, locking it before he gets ready for bed. He hasn't slept properly for a long time, so he's going to need the rest.

~~~~~~~~~

The next morning he awakes from a dark nightmare. He sits up quickly, gasping for breath, his night clothes sticking to his body from sweat. He shakes himself, quickly taking in a few breaths to calm himself down. After a few minutes, he's able to pull himself out of bed.

It doesn't take him long to get ready, and soon he's standing in the middle of his living room with the time turner in his hands, and the wands tucked into his shirt. He takes in a deep breath, before focusing his energy into his hands, and onto the time turner. He feels… Strange. He can't feel his body anymore, nor can he see anything but blinding white light. He tries to tough out the travel, but his consciousness soon gives out, causing the world to go black around him.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello again everyone! I cranked this out in nearly 7 hours over 2 days. Thank god for labor day weekend. I use text directly from the book, so it should be pretty accurate. I hate the way Hagrid speaks though, at least how it looks when written down. Oh well.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Harry groans softly as he hears loud thumps from his door.

“Up! Get up! Now!” Aunt Petunia yells, before she walks off, most likely getting things ready for him to make breakfast… Wait. Aunt Petunia? He hasn't lived with the Dursley’s since he was 11… He snaps wide awake and quickly sits up, looking around frantically. He's… in the old cupboard under the stairs. “Up!” Petunia screams from the kitchen.

He looks down, and sees his baggy clothes from when he was a child. He was wrong, he didn’t keep anything with him… His heart aches slightly at the loss of both the wands, but he knows that right now, everyone is alive. And he will be able to save them. He will change things for the better. He rubs hard at his eyes to clear away the tears collecting there. He quickly leaves the cupboard, not wanting to be yelled at again.

Harry holds back a groan as he sees all the presents for Dudley covering the table. It’s his birthday. Well, at least now he knows the date. He’s probably 10 now, and will know for sure when he hears if they’re going to the zoo with Dudley’s friend or not. Harry gets to work on making breakfast, before Uncle Vernon walks in,

“Comb your hair!” He says loudly to Harry, frowning. Harry suppresses a sigh, and it only takes a few minutes for Dudley to walk into the kitchen. He immediately begins to count the presents stacked up for him on the table as Harry sets out a plate of bacon and eggs on the table.

“Thirty-six,” Dudley says with a frown, looking over at his father, “That’s two less than last year.”

“Darling, you haven’t counted Auntie Marge’s present, see, it’s here under this big one from Mummy and Daddy.”

“Alright, thirty-seven then,” he says, puffing out his reddening cheeks. Harry quietly begins to eat his breakfast as the approaching tantrum comes to the surface. He remembers this about living with the Dursley’s, and he hated it so much. Aunt Petunia quickly says,

“And we’ll buy you another two presents while we’re out today. How’s that, popkin? Two more presents. Is that alright?”

Dudley takes a moment to think as Harry silently rolls his eyes. They always cave into what Dudley wants when he throws a tantrum. “So I’ll have thirty… Thirty…” He trails off, having trouble counting the simple math.

“Thirty-nine, sweetums,” Aunt Petunia says with a slight smile.

“Oh.” Dudley says, quickly grabbing one of the presents as he sits down, “Alright then.” Uncle Vernon chuckles and pats his head,

“Little tyke wants his money’s worth, just like his father. ‘Atta boy, Dudley!” He says with a laugh. As soon as he finishes speaking, the phone rings. Harry believe he already knows what the call is about, so he doesn’t pay attention as Aunt Petunia answers it. Her face dissolves into a scowl as she talks. Yep, it’s the day Mrs. Figg broke her leg.

Harry tunes out the conversation for a bit, knowing how it goes. They talk about how she broke her leg and how Harry can’t go to her house while they go to the zoo. How tragic. As they talk about other options, Dudley looks like he’s going to have a melt down. Even Dudley can see where this is going. Suddenly, he begins to cry loudly, and Harry sighs, listen to the conversation again.

“Dinkey Duddydums, don’t cry, Mummy won’t let him spoil your special day!” Aunt Petunia cries as she hugs the wailing Dudley. It’s painfully obvious that Dudley is faking the tears, but neither Vernon or Petunia notice.

“I don’t want him to come!” Dudley yells, all the while fake sobbing, “He always spoils e-everything!” He shoots a cruel grin towards Harry from between his mother’s arms. Harry purses his lips at the expression as he wishes he could Hex Dudley, before the bell suddenly rings.

“Oh good lord, they’re here!” Aunt Petunia says frantically. Almost as if by magic, Dudley stops sobbing, obviously not wanting to look weak in front of his oh so special friend. Harry has to think hard for a moment to remember exactly who was there, before he remembers. Piers is here. He always held Harry down when he was little so Dudley could hit him.

Half an hour passes, and Harry finds himself squished against the car door with Piers and Dudley sitting next to him. They’re off to the zoo. Harry drums his fingers against his thigh as he thinks about what he might do when he gets back to Hogwarts. He has what, a little over a two months to get his plan together before his 11th birthday. Before getting in the car, Vernon had pulled him aside,

“I’m warning you now boy, any funny business, anything at all, and you’ll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas.” He says angrily. Harry quickly responds,

“I’m not going to do anything, honestly…” He says, easily lying to Vernon. He, of course, is going to let the Boa Constrictor out of it’s cage. He can’t wait to see Dudley’s face in reaction to that again.

It was obvious that Vernon didn’t believe him. Back when he was 10, no one believed him. Now they’re in the car driving as Vernon complains about any little thing he can. He brings up motorcycles, and Harry can vaguely remember that he brought up the memory of Hagrid bringing him to them as a baby on a frying motorcycle. He decides again bringing it up this time.

The sun is hot on Harry’s back as they get out of the car. The zoo is completely packed, which was unsurprising, if Harry could remember correctly, it is a Saturday morning. They get ice cream, Harry included, because of the lady asking if Harry wanted anything. He smiles to himself slightly as the afternoon crawls by. He remembers absolutely loving this day. He stays a little ways away from the group, so he isn’t bullied by Dudley or Piers, because he sees himself attacking them back.

After a while of walking, they end up at the reptile house. Harry looks around as Dudley quickly walks up to the large boa constrictor, asking his father to ‘make it move.’ Harry feels bad for the snake as Vernon taps on the glass a few times, before Dudley walks away out of boredom.

Harry quickly walks up to the large container, watching the boa constrictor for a few quiet moments. The snake slowly moves and lifts it’s head up, looking directly at Harry, at eye level. It winks at him, just as Harry remembers. He gives a little smile to the snake, winking back at it.

“Sorry about that bumbling fool,” Harry says quietly to the snake, “It must be extremely annoying.” The snake quickly nods in agreement. Harry hums softly, “I know you were bred in captivity. I’ll let you out, but you have to wait a moment.” The snake gives him a curious look, before Piers yells loudly behind him,

“DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON’T BELIEVE WHAT IT’S DOING!” Harry fights back the urge to throw a spell his way, the edge of war still hot in his nerves. Dudley quickly walks, well, more waddles, over,

“Out of the way, you,” He says as he punches Harry to the floor. Harry almost retaliates as his mind quickly kicks into high gear, but quickly calms himself down. He can’t hurt Dudley, sadly. Harry concentrates as Dudley and Piers lean up close to the glass. It vanishes, and the snake quickly uncoils itself,sliding out of the cage.

Screams were heard all around him, and he can faintly hear the Boa Constrictor say as it passes him, “Brazil, here I come… Thanksss, amigo.” Harry allows himself a small smile as the keeper of the reptile house tries to figure out what happened to the glass. Harry taps the ground twice, as he creates a small magical surge to allow the snake through without fear, as well as to transport him somewhere in Brazil. He is so thankful that he learned how to use magic without a wand, because he know’s the snake would have never made it to Brazil on it’s own.

When everything dies down, the director of the zoo makes Aunt Petunia a strong cup of sweet tea while apologizing profusely. All Piers and Dudley could do is blubber out of fear. Harry knows it only lightly snapped at their ankles as it passed them, in some sort of retaliation, there was no way it could have hurt either of them.

By the time they get back to the car, though, Dudley is quickly telling how the snake could have bitten off his leg, and nearly had. Harry looks away quickly as Piers says, “Harry was talking to it, weren’t you, Harry?” Harry says nothing in response. Vernon makes sure Piers is out of the house before saying, “Go- cupboard- stay- no meals.” He can hardly manage that through his anger as he collapses onto the chair while Aunt Petunia gets him a large brandy.

~~~~~~~~

Harry had a long punishment. He wasn’t allowed out of the cupboard until the start of summer, while was 2 weeks before Dudley’s birthday. He doesn’t mind too much, because he needed time to calm himself down and bring his thoughts together. Dudley already broke his new camera, crashed his remote control racing airplane, and knocked down Mrs. Figg while on his new racing bike. What an ungrateful child.

When he wakes up one morning, a horrible smell comes from the kitchen. Ah, Petunia is dying his new ‘uniform.’ He walks out of the cupboard as Vernon and Dudley walks downstairs. “Get the mai-” Harry quickly walks out of the room, knowing what he was going to ask. He sees three letters on the ground, two of them for the Dursley’s, and Harry’s first letter from Hogwarts. He grabs the three of them and gives Vernon the two others, making sure that Dudley can see him with the letter to Hogwarts. He doesn’t want anything to change too much, so they need to go to that miserable house off in a storm later because of the sheer amount of letters they get.

“Dad!” Dudley says and he thinks he oh so sneakily sees the envelope, “Dad, Harry’s got something!” Vernon quickly reaches over and snatches away the letter from his hands.

“That’s mine!” Harry says indignantly. He’s always been a good actor.

“Who’d be writing you?” Vernon sneers, before he opens the letter and begins to read. He goes a strange color of green before going pale, “P-Petunia!” He chokes out. Petunia grabs the letter before Dudley can and read it, gasping softly,

“Vernon! Oh my goodness- Vernon!” She says, panicking slightly. They stare at eachother for a moment, before Dudley hits his father with his Smelting stick,

“I want to read that letter.” He says, frowning.

“I want to read it!” Harry says quickly, “As it’s mine!”

“Get out, both of you.” Vernon says, rubbing his temple.

“I want my letter!” Harry says loudly, before Dudley cuts in,

“Let me see it!” He whines to his father, reaching for the envelope again.

“OUT!” Uncle Vernon yells, before shoving both of them out of the kitchen. Dudley quickly leans forward to look through the hole for the lock while Harry pretends to strain to hear them. Vernon and Petunia talk about how they must be spying on them, and if they should write back., Harry almost snorts, but holds himself back. They soon leave the kitchen, Vernon goes to work with the letter. Harry scowls slightly as he goes.

~~~~~~~~

When Vernon comes back from work, he visits Harry in his cupboard, surprising Harry slightly.

“Where’s my letter?” Harry asks, sitting up in his bed as Vernon struggles to get through the door, “Who’s writing to me?”

“No one,” Uncle Vernon says, “It was addressed to you by mistake. I have burned it.” Harry feels anger bubble up inside of him, even though he already knows what’s in the letter, it still pisses him off that he burned it like it was nothing.

“It was not a mistake! It had my cupboard on it.” He says with a frown.

“SILENCE!” Yells Vernon. He takes a few breaths to calm himself as Harry notices a few spiders fall from the ceiling. He puts on a ridiculously fake smile, looking pained, “Er- yes, Harry- about this cupboard. Your Aunt and I have been thinking… You’re getting a bit big for it,” Harry internally rolls his eyes. He’s pitifully small at this point in his life. There is no way he could be getting ‘too small’ for the cupboard. More like the cupboard is too big for him. “We think it might be nice if you moved into Dudley’s second bedroom.”

“Why?” Harry asks, even though he already knows the answer he’s going to get.

“Don’t ask questions!” Uncle Vernon says angrily, “Take this stuff upstairs now.” Harry sighs softly and gathers his very little possessions, walking upstairs to the small room. It’s filled with junk that Dudley has broken. Downstairs, he can hear Dudley sobbing to his mother about how he ‘needs that room’ and how he doesn’t want him in there.

Harry lets out a small sigh and lays down on the bed, looking up at the ceiling, contemplating how he’s going to react to seeing his friends again.

~~~~~~~~

Multiple days have gone by, with more and more letters arriving, just as Harry remembers. He knows that today, they’re going to go to the tiny, broken down house on the ocean side. He remembers because they just got piles of letters from the hotel receptionist all for him. They’re now in the car as rain pelts the ground outside. Vernon already told everyone that he found the perfect spot for them, and has the box concealing the shotgun.

“Found the perfect place” Uncle Vernon says happily, “Come on! Everyone out!” Uncle Vernon points to the tiny house way out to sea sitting on a large slab of rock. Harry wasn’t looking forward to having to sleep on the floor again…

“Storm forecast for tonight!” Vernon says gleefully, as if a kid in a candy shop, “And this gentleman’s kindly agreed to lend us his boat!” An old, toothless man smiles at the four of them, standing next to a tiny rowboat.

The water is freezing as it splashes them while they sit in the boat. Harry shivers, remembering how skinny he was at this time. He has no body fat what so ever to store heat with. They soon reach the rock, Vernon thanks the man, and they all walk inside.

The house looks as bad as he remembered; the smell of seaweed and wind whistling about outside of the house. Vernon tries to create a fire with chip bags, which of course doesn’t work. Petunia finds a few moldy blankets and sets up a bed for Dudley on the couch while Harry lays on the floor.

~~~~~~~~

The loud storm outside rumbles and shakes the house as Harry curls up on the floor, looking off into space. He needs to be calm when Hagrid comes to get him. He hadn’t seen him for years back when he was thirty-five, so he has to make sure that he doesn’t tackle him in a hug. He’s also going to have to try and act casual when in Diagon Alley. He knows he’s going to be twitchy with the thought of Voldemort still alive and breathing, but the plus is many, many more people that he cares for are still alive and breathing as well.

He carefully watches Dudley’s digital clock as it counts slowly to 12 o’clock.Harry lets his eyes close as it beeps, signalling that it’s finally his birthday. Just as expected, a loud knock is heard at the front door, shaking the whole house. Hagrid knocks once again, shaking the house once again, waking Dudley. 

“Where’s the cannon?” Dudley says stupidly as Vernon and Petunia rush downstairs, Vernon holding the shotgun in his hands shakily.

“Who’s there?” Vernon demands angrily, “I warn you- I’m armed!” Silence takes over the whole house for a moment, before suddenly, the door is hit so hard that it’s knocked right off it’s hinges, crashing loudly to the floor, startling everyone in the room.

Harry can barely hold back his tears as he sees the giant of a man step in through the doorway, messy hair and beard covering most of his face. He hasn’t seen him in so long… Too long. Hagrid reaches down and haphazardly places the door back onto the hinges, quieting sounds of the storm outside slightly.

“Couldn’t make us a cup o’ tea, could yeh? It’s not been an easy journey…” Hagrid says, his voice echoing through the tiny house. No one says a thing, even though Harry has so much to say to him.

Hagrid walks over the the couch in huge, lumbering strides as he says “Budge up, yeh great lump.” Dudley lets out a strange sound, before scrambling up to hide behind Petunia, who is crouching behind Vernon.

“An’ here’s Harry!” Hagrid says happily while he smiles down at Harry. “Las’ time I saw you, you was only a baby,” He makes a motion to show how small he was, “Yeh look a lot like yer dad, but yeh’ve got yer mum’s eyes.”

Uncle Vernon makes a strange, rasping sound, before summoning up the courage to yell at Hagrid, “I demand you leave at once, sir!” He says angrily, “You are breaking and entering!”

“Ah, shut up, Dursley, yeh great prune,” Hagrid says as he reaches behind the couch, grabbing the shotgun out of his hands before bending it into a knot as if it’s nothing but rubber, before throwing it off to the side. Vernon lets out a strange sounding noise as the gun is thrown away.

“Anyway- Harry,” He turns back to face Harry, with a grin, “a very happy birthday to yeh. Got summat fer yeh here- I mighta sat on it at some point, but it’ll taste alright.” Hagrid reaches into his coat, pulling out a cardboard box. It’s definitely been sat on at some point, but Harry appreciates the gesture either way. He remembers how absolutely confused he was when Hagrid first came to their doorstep, but he wasn’t complaining then, and he definitely isn’t complaining now. Harry smiles slightly at the green lettering of Happy Birthday Harry in icing on top of the cake.

“Who are you?” Harry asks, looking up at Hagrid. It’s strange asking who he is, but he knows that he needs to. There is absolutely no way he would have known him at all by this point. Hagrid lets out a chuckle,

“True, I haven’t introduced meself. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts.” He holds out his huge hand and shakes Harry’s, well, his whole arm. “What about that tea then, eh?” He asks, rubbing his hands together, “I’d not say no ter summat stronger if yeh’ve got it, mind.”

Hagrid looks over at the empty fire grate with the shriveled up chip bags, before he walks over, bending down to block the view. Harry knows he’s using magic to light the fire, but he doesn’t mind. He is so unbelievably cold that he’ll take any warmth right now. A few seconds, Hagrid pulls back, showing a now roaring fire in the fireplace. The damp, tiny house is filled with a soft orange glow as warmth washes over Harry. He lets out a soft, happy sigh at the feeling.

Hagrid walks back to the couch and sits down, causing the couch to sag under his weight. He pulls multiple things out of his coat; a copper kettle, a package of sausages, a poker, a teapot, several chipped mugs, and a bottle of what looks to be firewhiskey. He takes a swig of the whiskey, before he starts to cook up the sausages, filling the room with a delicious smell.

“Don’t touch anything he gives you, Dudley.” Vernon says sternly, glaring at Hagrid. Hagrid lets out a soft chuckle,

“Yer great puddin’ of a son don’ need fattenin’ anymore, Dursley, don’ worry.” Petunia makes an affronted noise at the jab, but says nothing. He soon passes a few sausages to Harry, who quickly eats them. He hasn’t eaten anything for a few hours, by now. He keeps his gaze on Hagrid, though, as he lets memories wash over him.

“I’m sorry, but I still don’t really know who you are.” Harry says softly, still watching him.

“Call me Hagrid,” he says, “everyone does. An’ like I told yeh, I’m the Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts- yeh’ll know all about Hogwarts, o’ course.”

Harry swallows a bit of sausage before he responds, knowing his reaction, “Er- no.” Hagrid looks over at him with a shocked look. “Sorry,” Harry says, looking away.

“Sorry?” Hagrid asks loudly, before he turns to stare at the Dursley’s. Harry holds back a grin, knowing that they’re about to be chewed out by Hagrid. “It’s them that should be sorry! I knew yeh weren’t gettin’ yer letters but I never thought that yeh wouldn’t even know abou’ Hogwarts, fer cryin’ out loud! Did yeh never wonder where yer parents learned it all?”

Harry shifts slightly in his seat, “All what?” He asks, looking at him.

“ALL WHAT?” Hagrid echos angrily, “Now wait jus’ one second!” He quickly jumps to his feet. In his anger, he seemed to fill the whole room. The Dursleys huddled against the wall in fear, “Do you mean ter tell me,” he says darkly to the Dursleys, “that this boy- this boy!- knows nothin’ abou’- about ANYTHING?” Harry had the decency to feel a bit embarrassed. He knows he’s talking about his magic, but he can’t help but think it’s about general stuff to.

“I know some things,” He says indignantly, “I can, you know, do math and stuff.” And Occlumency among other things he adds quietly in his head. He, of course, didn’t say this out loud.

Hagrid just waves at him with a hand, saying, “About our world, I mean. Your world. My world. Yer parents’ world.”

“World what?” He asks. Hagrid looks like he’s about to explode as he glares at the Dursleys.

“DURSLEY!” He booms out. Vernon, who has gone very pale, mutters something out that sounded slightly like ‘mimblewimble’ Hagrid turns his attention back to Harry,

“But yeh must know about yer mum and dad,” He says, almost desperately, “I mean, they’re famous. You’re famous.”

“What?” Harry asks, feigning confusion, “My- my mum and dad weren’t famous, were they?

“Yeh really don’t know… Yeh really don’t know…” Hagrid mumbles as he runs a huge hand through his hair. He quickly looks back at Harry with a bewildered stare.

“Yeh don’ know what yeh are?” He finally asks. Vernon suddenly steps forward slightly, somehow finding his voice,

“Stop!” He says angrily, “Stop right there, sir! I forbid you to tell the boy anything!” Anyone would have crumbled under the look Hagrid gave Vernon in response. When he finally spoke, every word trembled with anger.

“You never told him? Never told him what was in the letter Dumbledore left fer him? I was there! I saw Dumbledore leave it, Dursley! An’ you’ve kept it from him all these years?”

“Kept what from me?” Harry asks eagerly, unable to wait to see their reactions.

“STOP! I FORBID YOU!” Vernon yells in a final ditch effort to stop Hagrid from saying anything. Petunia gasps in horror, knowing exactly what Hagrid is about to say.

“Ah, go boil yer heads, both of yeh,” Hagrid says, before looking at Harry, “Harry- yer a wizard.” Silence fills the dark room, only broken by the sounds of the storm raging outside.

“I’m a what?” He gasps, looking up at him with ‘amazement.’

“A wizard, o’ course,” Hagrid says, as he sits back down on the sofa, which sinks even lower. “An’ a thumpin’ good’un, I’d say, once yeh’ve been trained up a bit. With a mum an’ dad like yours, what else would yeh be? An’ I reckon it’s abou’ time yeh read yer letter.”

Harry quickly accepts the letter from Hagrid as he pulls it out of his coat. He quickly opens it and scans the yellow paper, letting memories wash over him. He barely remembers to ask, “What does it mean, they await my owl?”

“Gallopin’ Gorgons, that reminds me,” Hagrid says, clapping his hand to his forehead. He reaches back into his coat and pulls out an owl, a long quill, and a roll of parchment. He quickly writes down that Harry has seen his letter and that he will be arriving tomorrow. He rolls up the note and hands it to the owl, before letting it out into the stormy night, poor thing.

“Where was I?” asksHagrid, but suddenly, Uncle Vernon steps forward into the light of the fire, still pale as a ghost.

“He’s not going.” He says with finality. Hagrid just grunts,

“I’d like ter see a great Muggle like you stop him.” He says gruffly.

“A what?” Harry asks, looking up at Hagrid,

“A Muggle,” Hagrid responds, “it’s what we call non-magic folk like them. An’ it’s your bad luck you grew up in a family o’ the biggest Muggles I ever laid eyes on.

“We swore when we took him in we’d put a stop to that rubbish, swore we’d stamp it out of him, wizard indeed!” Vernon steps in angrily.

“You knew?” Harry asks, offended, “You knew I’m a- a wizard?” He isn’t exactly offended at them exactly for that. He’s just expressing his anger towards them.

“Knew!” shrieks Aunt Petunia, “Knew! Of course we knew! Who could you not be, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that- that school- and came home every vacation with her pockets full of frogspawn, turning teacups into rats. I was the only one who saw her for what she was- a freak! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that, they were proud of having a witch in the family!”

She has to stop for a long moment, taking in a deep breath. She then continues her long rampage, which Harry tunes out. He’s pissed at hearing her put down his mother. He thinks about something else, anything else. Like how Hagrid is there and will most likely yell at Petunia for her blatant disrespect. He tunes in at the very end of the rant,

“And then, if you please, she went and gotten herself blown up and we got landed with you!” Harry suppresses a shudder at the thought of the killing curse, and manages out,

“Blown up? You told me they died in a car crash!” Hagrid apparently sees red at that,

“CAR CRASH!” He roars, standing up quickly, “How could a car crash kill Lily an’ James Potter? It’s an outrage! A scandal! Harry Potter not knowin’ his own story when every kid in our world knows his name!”

Harry looks up at the enraged Hagrid, “But why? What happened?” He knows exactly what happened, and doesn’t want to hear it told again, but he needs to ask either way.

“I never expected this,” Hagrid says, his voice laced with worry, “I had no idea, when Dumbledore told me there might be trouble gettin’ hold of yeh, how much yeh didn’t know. Ah, Harry, I don’t know if I’m the right person ter tell yeh- but someone’s gotta- yeh can’t go off ter Hogwarts not knowin’.” He gives a dirty look to the Dursleys for a moment, before turning back to Harry,

“Well, it’s best yeh know as much as I can tell yeh- mind, I can’t tell yeh everythin’, it’s a great myst’ry, parts of it…” He sits down heavily, staring at the fire for a few long moments. “It begins, i suppose, with- with a person called- but it’s incredible yeh don’t know his name, everyone in our world knows-”

“Who?” Harry asks, unknowingly using his soft, coaxing voice. He’s always talked like that to someone who is afraid to tell him something.

He looks at him for a few seconds, before saying, “Well- I don’ like sayin’ the name if I can help it. No one does.”

“Why not?”

“Gulpin’ gargoyles, Harry, people are still scared. Blimey, this is difficult. See, there was this wizard who went… bad. As bad as you could go. Worse. Worse than worse. His name was…” Hagrid trails off, looking uncomfortable.

“Would you write it down?” He asks, knowing he couldn’t,

“Nah- can’t spell it. Alright- Voldemort.” Hagrid shudders, and Harry can barely repress his own, “Don’ make me say it again. Anyway, this- this wizard, about twenty years ago now, started lookin’ fer followers. Got ‘em too- some were afraid, some just wanted a bit o’ his power, ‘cause he was gettin’ himself power, alright. Dark days, Harry. Didn’t know who ter trust, didn’t dare get friendly with strange wizards or witches… terrible things happened. He was takin’ over. ‘Course, some stood up to him- an’ he killed ‘em. Horribly. One o’ the only safe places left was Hogwarts. Reckon Dumbledore’s the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of. Didn’t dare try takin’ the school, not jus’ then, anyway.”

“Now, yer mum an’ dad were as good a witch an’ wizard as I ever knew. Head boy an’ head girl at Hogwarts in their day! Suppose the myst’ry is why You-Know-Who never tried to get ‘em on his side before… probably knew that they were too close ter Dumbledore ter want anythin’ ter do with the Dark Side.” He lets out a heavy sigh, before continuing,

“Maybe he thought he could persuade ‘em… maybe he just wanted them outta the way. All anyone knows it, he turned up in the village where you wass all living, on Halloween ten years ago. You was just a year old. He came ter yer house- an’- an’-” Before Hagrid can finish, He grabs a handkerchief from his large coat and blows his nose.

“Sorry, but it’s that sad- knew yer mum an’ dad, an’ nicer people yeh couldn’t find- anyway… You-Know-Who killed ‘em. An’ then- an’ this is the real myst’ry of the thing- he tried to kill you, too. Wanted ter make a clean job of it, I suppose, or maybe he just liked killin’ by then. But he couldn’t do it. Never wondered how you got that mark on yer forehead? That was no ordinary cut. That’s what yeh get when a powerful, evil curse touches yeh- took care of yer mum an’ dad an’ yer house, even-” Harry winces slightly at that as Hagrid continues on, “but it didn’t work on you, an’ that’s why yer famous, Harry. No one ever lived after he decided ter kill ‘em, no one except you, an’ he’d killed some o’ the best witches an’ wizards of the age- the McKinnons, the Bones, the Prewetts- an’ you was only a baby, an’ you lived.”

Memories, very faint memories, swirl around in his head as he remembers the bright green flash of the killing curse and the dark laughter from Voldemort. His jaw tightens slightly, but he doesn’t let anything out. Hagrid gives him a sad look,

“Took yeh from the ruined house meself, on Dumbledore’s orders. Brought yeh ter this lot…” Suddenly, Vernon cuts back into the conversation,

“Load of old tosh,” he looks livid, his hands balled into fists at his sides, “Now, you listen here, boy, I accept there’s something strange about you, probably nothing a good beating wouldn’t have cured,” Harry frowns at that, “and as for your parents, well, they were weirdos, no denying it, and the world’s better off without them in my opinion- asked for all they got, getting mixed up with these wizarding types- just what I expected, always knew they’d come to a sticky end-” Before Harry can yell at him to defend his parents, Hagrid jumps up and points the sharp end of his pink umbrella at him threateningly,

“I’m warning you, Dursley- I’m warning you- one more word…” Vernon quickly presses himself back into the corner of the wall, all courage seemingly have been evaporated. “That’s better,” Hagrid says, sitting back down, breathing heavily. Silence stretched on for a moment, before Harry remembers he should probably be asking questions,

“But what happened to You-Know-Who?” He asks, being careful to avoid saying Voldemort’s name.

“Good question, Harry. Disappeared. Vanished. Same night he tried ter kill you.. Makes yeh even more famous. That’s the biggest myst’ry, see… he was gettin’ more an’ more powerful- why’d he go?” He takes in a deep breath before continuing on,

“Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die. Some say he’s still out there, bidin’ his time, like, but I don’ believe it. People who was on his side came back yer ours. Some of ‘em came outta kinda trances. Don’ reckon they could’ve done it if he was comin’ back. Most of us reckon he’s still out there somewhere but lost his powers. Too weak to carry on. ‘Cause somethin’ about you finished him, Harry. There was somethin’ goin’ on that night he hadn’t counted on- I dunno what it was, no one does- but somethin’ about you stumped him, alright.”

Hagrid looks at him with respect, while Harry puts on his best bewildered look. Of course he’s not supposed to know this, any of this, but he does. And he’s going to change things. For the better. After a long stretch of silence, Harry decides to add,

“Hagrid, I think you must have made a mistake. There’s no way I could be a wizard.”

“No way, eh? Never made things happen when you was scared or angry?” Hagrid asks with an eyebrow raised. Harry allows himself to think back when Petunia cut his hair, or when he appeared on the roof to get away from Dudley’s gang. Last time the glass for the snake had been an accident, but this time certainly was not. He looks back at Hagrid with a smile, Hagrid returns it, beaming happily,

“See? Harry Potter, not a wizard- you wait, you’ll be right famous at Hogwarts.” Vernon seems to disagree with him,

“Haven’t I told you he’s not going?” He hisses angrily, “He’s going to Stonewall High and he’ll be grateful for it. I’ve read those letters and he needs all sorts of rubbish- spell books and wands and-” Hagrid quickly cuts him off,

“If he wants ter go, a great Muggle like you won’t stop him. Stop Lily an’ James Potter’s son from goin’ ter Hogwarts! Yer mad. His name’s been down ever since he was born. He’s off ter the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. Seven years there and heh won’t know himself. He’ll be with youngsters of his own sort, fer a change, an’ he’ll be under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had, Albus Dumbledore-”

“I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH HIM MAGIC TRICKS!” Vernon suddenly yells out angrily. Harry internally grins, knowing what Hagrid is going to do next. Hagrid stands up quickly and whirls it over his head,

“NEVER- INSULT- ALBUS- DUMBLEDORE- IN- FRONT- OF- ME!” He brings down his umbrella to point at Dudley, and suddenly a flash of violet light encases the room. The next moment, Dudley is squealing with his hands over his bottom, and when he turns his back towards them, a curly pig tail pokes out of his trousers. Vernon yells angrily, before he pulls Dudley and Petunia with him into the other room, leaving Harry and Hagrid alone. Hagrid strokes his beard while looking at his umbrella,

“Shouldn’ta lost me temper,” he says ruefully, “but it didn’t work anyway. Meant to turn him into a pig, but I suppose he was too much like a pig anyway there wasn’t much left ter do.” He gives Harry a sideways look, “be grateful if yeh didn’t mention that ter anyone at Hogwarts. I’m- er- not supposed ter do magic, strictly speakin’. I was allowed ter to a bit ter follow yeh an’ get yer letters to yeh an’ stuff- one o’ the reasons I was so keen ter take on the job-”

Harry cuts him off with a question, “Why aren’t you allowed to do magic?”

“Oh, well- I was at Hogwarts meself but I- er- got expelled, ter tell yeh the truth. In me third year. They snapped me wand in half an’ everything. But Dumbledore let me stay on as a gamekeeper. Great man, Dumbledore.”

“Why did you get expelled?” He asks curiously. Hagrid had the decency to look sheepish as he says,

“It’s gettin’ late and we’ve got lots ter do tomorrow, gotta get up ter town, get all yer books an’ that.” he shrugs off his thick black coat and hands it to Harry, “You can kip under that, don’ mind if it wriggles a bit, I think I still got a couple o’ dormice in one o’ the pockets.”

Harry thanks him and settles down on the floor, using part of the coat to lay on. He soon falls asleep to the sound of Hagrid’s rumbling snores.


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heyoo everyone. It may be 1 am, and I may or may not be praying for both death and sleep at the same time, but I finished chapter 2! Hope you enjoy :)
> 
> Just a warning, I hope this doesn't happen, but some of my Hufflepuff self might leak through to what Harry does. Hopefully, that won't happen. :)

Harry looks around wildly for an exit from the inky blackness surrounding him, sweat dripping down his face. His heart beats painfully in his chest as he runs from what he cannot see. Dark voices whisper things to him in his ears, too many things at once to understand anything. He nearly trips on something disgustingly warm and squishy, causing a squelch sound from under his bare feet. He trembles for a moment, before he looks down. Through the thick black smog that clogs his breath, he can barely make out what he’s standing on… 

Corpses. Hundreds upon hundreds of corpses lie dead in front of him under his shoes. Suddenly, the whispering in his ears make sense. They’re taunting him, asking him why he failed. Why he let them die.

“No, I didn’t- I didn’t let you die…” He whispers to himself helplessly, stumbling away from the sea of bodies. He grips tightly at his hair as the putrid smell of decomposition surrounds him. Suddenly, he can see two eyes staring at him through the darkness. A foreboding smile curls underneath the eyes, and it whispers constantly to him,

-You failed them, Harry. They’re dead because of you, Harry. This is all your fault, Harry. Why couldn’t you save them?? Why didn’t you help them? They were dying. You killed them. You killed them all. You pathetic piece of waste, you weren’t able to live up to your name. Your parents are so disappointed with you, Harry. Hermione is disappointed. Ron is disappointed. Albus is disappointed. Snape is disappointed. You’ve failed.-

“No… No, it wasn’t me…” He desperately says to himself as tears run down his face. Underneath the hoarse whispers of the demon, he can hear the pleas of the dead surrounding him. Suffocating him. He gasps for breath, unable to draw in any air to his lungs. He squeezes his eyes shut tries to cry out, unable to make a sound. Only able to hear and feel everything he’s done wrong.

Knock knock knock knock

Harry suddenly sits up, gasping for breath, sweat coating his skin as he looks around wildly, grasping for his wand. He’s in a dark room, with a huge man sleeping on the couch and an owl tapping on the window…

It takes Harry quite a few moments to remember where he is and who the man is. It’s Hagrid… He’s still in the past. It was only a dream. He runs a shaky hand through his hair as he stands up, letting the owl in. The owl drops a newspaper, most likely The Daily Prophet, on top of Hagrid before diving for his coat. Harry reaches down and pulls out five Knuts, slipping them into the small pouch on the owl’s leg. It hoots at him, before flying off.

Hagrid lets out a huge yawn, sitting up on the couch. He rubs his eye as he stands up,

“Best be off, Harry, lots ter do today, gotta get up ter London an’ buy all yer stuff fer school.” He says, looking over at him. He goes quiet for a moment, before asking,

“Are you alright? Ya look like ya saw somethin’ horrifying.” Harry manages a small smile in his direction,

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bad dream is all…” He thinks for a moment, before he remembers that past Harry wouldn’t know about the large sum of money his parents left him, “Um, Hagrid?”

Hagrid looks over at him, “Hm?”

“I haven’t got any money- and you heard Uncle Vernon last night… He won’t pay for me to go and learn magic.” Hagrid gives out a chuckle,

“Don’t worry about that. D’yeh think yer parents didn’t leave yeh anything?”

“But their house was destroyed-”

“They didn’t keep their gold in the house, boy! Nah, first stop fer us is Gringotts. Wizards’ bank.” Hagrid hands him a cold sausage, “Here, have a sausage, they’re not bad cold- an’ I wouldn’t say no teh a bit o’ yer birthday cake, either.”

“Wizards have banks?” Harry asks in his best surprised voice.

“Just the one. Gringotts. Run by goblins.” Hagrid says with a shrug.

“Goblins?”

“Yeah- so yeh’d be mad ter try an’ rob it, I’ll tell yeh that. Never mess with goblins, Harry. Gringotts is the safest place in the world fer anything yeh want ter keep safe- ‘cept maybe Hogwarts. As a matter o’ fact, I gotta visit Gringotts anyway. Fer Dumbledore. Hogwarts buisness.” Hagrid puffs out his chest proudly. “He usually gets me ter do important stuff fer him. Fetchin’ you- gettin’ things from Gringotts- knows he can trust me, see.” Hagrid looks over at him for a moment, “Got everythin’? Come on then.”

Harry stands up and quickly follows after him, walking out into the daylight. Luckily, it’s no longer raining. The now calm water glitters in the sunlight, causing Harry to smile slightly. He notices that the boat Uncle Vernon borrowed is still sitting at the edge of the little rock, filled with water from the storm. Harry looks up at Hagrid,

“How did you get here?” He asks curiously, knowing he’d ask back then.

“Flew.” Hagrid says simply. Harry widens his eyes,

“Flew?” He asks with as much curiosity as he could manage.

“Yeah- but we’ll go back in this. Not s’pposed ter use magic now I’ve got yeh.” They both get into the boat after clearing out the water. Hagrid sighs lightly,

“Seems a shame ter row, though. If I was ter- er- speed things up a bit, would yeh mind not mentionin’ it at Hogwarts?” He asks, looking over at him. Harry shakes his head,

“Of course not.” Hagrid grins and grabs his pink umbrella, tapping the side of the boat twice, causing the boat to go zooming through the water. Harry doesn’t like the silence, so he desides to ask about Gringotts,

“Why would you be mad to try and rob Gringotts?” Harry looks over at Hagrid,

“Spells- enchantments,” Hagrid says simply, unfolding The Daily Prophet, “They say there’s dragons guardin’ the high-security vaults. And then yeh gotta find yer way- Gringotts is hundreds of miles under London, see. Deep under the Underground. Yeh’d die of hunger tryin’ ter get out, even if yeh did manage ter get yer hands on summat.”

Harry sat quietly after that, letting his thoughts wander as Hagrid reads the newspaper. He has no idea how he’ll react to seeing Hermione and Ron, much less Snape… Well, he should call him Severus, at least in his head. Technically right now he is older than him because he was only 38 when he died. He’d be what, 31 right now? Around that age. Suddenly, he’s pulled out of his thoughts when Hagrid says,

“Ministry o’ Magic messin’ things up as usual.” Harry looks up at him, adding,

“There’s a Ministry of Magic?”

“‘Course,” says Hagrid, “They wanted Dumbledore fer fer Minister, o’ course, but he’d never leave Hogwarts, so old Cornelius Fudge got the job. Bungler if ever there was one. So he pelts Dumbledore with owls every morning, askin’ fer advice.”

Harry nods slightly, before asking, “What does the Ministry of Magic do?”

“Well, their main job is to keep it from the Muggles that there's still witches an’ wizards up an’ down the country.”

“Why?” Harry persists, looking over at Hagrid,

“Why? Blimey, Harry, everyone’d be wantin’ magic solutions to their problems. Nah, we're best left alone.” As soon as he finishes his sentence, the boat rocks slightly as it hits the shore.

Hagrid folds up his newspaper and steps out of the boat with Harry in tow. People stare at Hagrid as the two of them walk through the streets. Harry can't blame them. He's very tall, and keeps pointing at things and commenting on them. Not very subtle at all.

“Hagrid, did you say there were dragons at Gringotts?” Harry asks, trying to create conversation. Hagrid nods,

“Well, so they say… Crikey, I'd like a dragon.”

“You'd like one?”

“Wanted one ever since I was a kid- here we go.” Hagrid says as they walk up to the train station. Hagrid doesn't know how ‘Muggle money’ works, so he just gave Harry the money to get the tickets.

They board the train and sit down. Hagrid takes up two seats while he knits,

“Still got yer letter, Harry?” Harry nods and shows him the letter, “Good. There's a list there is everything yeh need.” Harry nods and unfolds the second paper, scanning the pages. Still the same requirements.

“Can we find all this is London?” He asks, looking up at Hagrid. He nods with a smile,

“If yeh know where to go.” By the time they get off the train, Hagrid is complaining how slow the trains are, how small the seats are, and how he has no idea how Muggles manage without magic.

They walk for a little while before Harry notices the Leaky Cauldron nestled between two stores. He makes sure not to make it obvious that he saw it, considering it's charmed with Notice-Me-Not.

“This is it, the Leaky Cauldron. It's a famous place.” Hagrid says as they step in front of the pub. He nods slightly, and they both walk inside. Still as dark and shabby as Harry can remember. His eyes scan through the crowd, before they land on Professor Quirrell. His eyes narrow and he grinds his teeth together for a moment, knowing exactly what he's hiding under those head wraps.

“The usual, Hagrid?” The bartender who's name has slipped Harry's mind asks.

“Can't, Tom,” Ah yes. Tom. “I'm on Hogwarts business,” Hagrid says, clapping him on the back. His legs nearly give out from the force of it. Damn, this body is weak. At least he still has his magic. He checked, and it’s still as developed as it was when he was thirty-five.

“Good Lord, is this- can this be-?” The bartender asks, while looking wide eyed at Harry. Harry feels uncomfortable as anxiety prickles just below his skin as the entire bar goes quiet. He can feel multiple pairs of eyes on his back, his stomach churning uncomfortably.

“Bless my soul,” the bartender says quietly, “Harry Potter… It's an honor.” He quickly walks around the bar, going to shake Harry's hand, tears in his eyes.

“Welcome back, Mr. Potter, welcome back.” Harry manages a tight smile his way as he loosely shakes his hand back. Everyone stares at him. He feels like he's suffocating. Suddenly, he has to shake hands with everyone in the Leaky Cauldron. He can barely manage that as panic starts to bubble up inside of him. He hates crowded places…

He feels rather numb as their voices buzz in his ears. They're introducing themselves to him, so he just nods blankly. Suddenly, he's snapped back to reality when he hears Hagrid say,

“Professor Quirrell! Harry, Professor Quirrell will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts.” Harry narrows his eyes at the Professor for a moment, before forcing himself to relax.

“P-P-Potter,” Professor Quirrell shakily says, shaking Harry's hand, “c-can’t t-tell you how p-pleased I am to meet you.”

Harry forces out a smile towards the Professor, careful to keep his gaze away from his head wraps, “What magic do you teach?” He asks, not able to call him by his name.

“D-Defense Against the D-D-Dark Arts,” Quirrell says. His acting is very good, he does sound like he's afraid if it, “N-not that you n-need it, eh, P-P-Potter?” He laughs nervously as Harry secretly wipes his hand on his pants, “You'll be g-getting all your equipment, I suppose? I've g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires, m-myself.” Harry nods slightly, internally rolling his eyes at the frightened look on Quirrell's face.

It was nearly ten minutes before they finally were able to leave. Hagrid told everyone they had to get shopping. Doris Crockford shook Harry's hand one last time before Hagrid leads them to the entrance to Diagon Alley.

“Told yeh, didn't I? Told yeh you was famous. Even Professor Quirrell was tremblin’ ter meet yeh- mind you, he's usually tremblin’.” Harry purses his lips slightly at the mention of the ‘Professor’,

“Is he always that nervous?” Harry asks, letting his mind wander as Hagrid explains what happened to Quirrell. He couldn't care less about what happened to that damn man. Soon, Hagrid turns his attention to the wall, muttering the combination to himself. The wall creaks and slowly moves as if alive, shifting before it settles into a large archway.

“Welcome, to Diagon Alley.” Hagrid says proudly. They step into Diagon Alley as Harry feins amazement. They pass the Cauldrens shop, with Hagrid adding, “Yeah, you'll be needin’ one, but we gotta get yer money first.”

Harry lets his eyes roam around the crowded alleyway as people walk in and out of shops, walking with each other. The skin on his neck prickles as his senses are kicked into high drive. They are out in the open, surrounded by unknown witches and wizards, while Harry doesn't have a wand. He feels incredibly uncomfortable and unsafe. His eyes dart to and fro, looking for people who may be a threat. He knows he and Hagrid aren't attacked, but he can't help himself.

“Gringotts,” Hagrid says as they reach the large white building. A goblin stands outside one of the large bronze doors.

“Yeah, that's a goblin,” Hagrid quietly tells him as they walk up the smooth stone steps. He bows to the two of them, and Harry nods back slightly.

“Like I said, yeh’d be mad ter try an’ rob it.” Hagrid rains as they face the silver doors with the engravings on them. Two other goblins bow to them, Harry curtly returning the bow as they enter the large marble hall of Gringotts. Harry and Hagrid make their way up to the counter,

“Morning,” Hagrid says to one of the goblins not currently showing other people around, “We've come ter take some money outta Mr. Harry Potter’s safe.”

“You have his key, sir?”

“Got it here somewhere,” Hagrid says as he finishes out things from his pockets. He sets down some moldy biscuits on the goblin's work, causing the goblin to scrunch up his nose. Harry mouths an apology to him.

“Got it!” Hagrid says as he finally fishes out the tiny golden key. The goblin looks at it closely, before nodding,

“That seems to be in order.”

“An’ I've also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore,” Hagrid says, “It's about the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen.” He hands the goblin the note, and it takes a moment to read it carefully.

“Very well,” he says, handing Hagrid the note back, “I will have someone take you down to both vaults. Griphook!”

Griphook quickly walks over, and Hagrid shoves everything back into his pockets. He and Harry follow Griphook to one of the side doors. Harry decides to forego asking Hagrid what is in the vault for two reasons; Hagrid won't tell him and he already knows what's in it. Griphook opens the doorway, holding it for them as they enter one of the long stone passageways. Griphook whistles, causing a cart to speed towards them. They all cram in, and soon, they're off.

Harry lets the cold air stinging his eyes pull him away from the present. He allows himself to float off into memories, trying to avoid thinking about anyone's death. They soon come to a stop, and everyone climbs out. Hagrid has to lean on the wall for a moment to stop his legs from shaking. Griphook opens the vault door, allowing smoke to billow out. Harry pretends a shocked gasp when he sees the room full of coins.

“All yours.” Hagrid says with a smile. He helps Harry pile some of the coins into a bag, “The gold ones are Galleons, Seventeen silver Sickle to a Galleon…” Harry tunes him out as he counts the money to distract himself. One of his new pastimes is counting, anything really, because of how orderly it is.

“Vault seven hundred and thirteen now, please, and can we go more slowly?” Hagrid asks, looking a little green. 

“One speed only,” Griphook says simply as they climb back into the cart.

They quickly take off, heading deeper and deeper into the dark tunnels of Gringotts. It gets colder the lower they go, causing Harry to shiver and rub his arms. Harry closes his eyes to shield them from the cold air whipping by, before the cart makes a sudden stop. All three of them get out, and Griphook tells them to step back. He presses a finger to the door, causing it to melt away under his touch.

“If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they’d be sucked through the door and trapped in there,” Griphook says as he steps away slightly.

“How often do you check the vault?” Harry asks, out of curiosity. He can’t remember how long Griphook told him before.

“About once every ten years,” Griphook replies with a nasty looking smile. Harry shivers slightly as Hagrid walks into the vault, quickly picking up the wrapped package. Harry knows exactly what that is… Hagrid tucks it away in his large coat.

“Come on, back in this infernal cart, and don’t talk to me on the way back, it’s best if I keep me mouth shut.”

~~

It doesn’t take long to get back to the surface of Gringotts, with how fast the cart travels. Soon both Hagrid and he are blinking away the light of the sun. Harry tries to remember what he got first… Oh yes, his uniform.

“Might as well get yer uniform,” Hagrid says, nodding towards Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions. “Listen, Harry, would yeh mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? I hate them Gringotts carts.” Harry nods, and soon he’s entering the shop alone. He remembers being so nervous the first time he walked in here alone. Madam Malkin notices him, and smiles warmly,

“Hogwarts, dear?” Harry nods, not trying to speak as she continues on, “Got the lot here- another young man being fitted up just now, in fact.” Oh yes, this is the first time Harry sees Draco… He might have some trouble looking him in the eye. Madam Malkin’s guides him to the back, and he stands up on a stool next to him.

“Hello,” Draco says, noticing his arrival, “Hogwarts, too?”

Harry just nods in reply, choosing to look at Madam Malkin.

“My father’s next door buying my books and mother’s up the street looking at wands," Draco says, in his drawling voice, “Then I’m going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don’t see why first years can’t have their own. I think I’ll bully father into getting me one and I’ll smuggle it in somehow.” Harry can’t help but draw the similarities of younger Draco to Dudley.

“Have you got your own broom?” Draco asks him,

“No,” Harry says curtly,

“Play Quidditch at all?”

“Used to,” Harry says, deciding to lean more on the truth.

“Ah, another player. Father says it’s a crime if I’m not picked to play for my House, and I must say, I agree. Know what House you’ll be in yet?”

“No.” Harry lies smoothly, knowing exactly what house he’s going to be in, as well as many other students.

“Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I’ll be in Slytherin,” At the mention of the house, his heart aches a little as he remembers the headmaster, “all our family has been- imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?” Harry manages to just barely hold back a scowl. Hufflepuff is a fine house.

“I don’t know.” He says, quickly glancing in his direction. He looks so… Young…

“I say, look at that man!” Draco says suddenly, nodding towards the window. Hagrid is standing in it, grinning at Harry and pointing to two ice cream cones he’s holding.

“That’s Hagrid, he works at Hogwarts,” Harry says, with a small smile towards Hagrid.

“Oh. I’ve heard of him. He’s a sort of servant, isn’t he?” Harry scowls slightly, making sure Draco cannot see it,

“He’s the gamekeeper.” He says, internally vying for Hagrid’s reputation. He forgot how insufferable Draco could be at this age…

“Yes, exactly. I heard he’s some sort of savage- lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting his bed on fire.” Harry grinds his teeth together slightly,

“I think he’s brilliant.”

“Do you?” Draco asks, not hiding the sneer in his voice, “Why is he with you? Where are your parents?”

“They’re dead.” Harry says shortly, his anger bubbling up more and more. He’s learned to control his emotions very well, but with this blatant disrespect, he can barely keep himself on track.

“Oh, sorry,” Draco says, obviously not sorry at all, “but they were our kind, weren’t they?”

“They were a witch and wizard, yes,” Harry says, not trusting himself to talk longer without exploding at him.

“I really don’t think they should let the other sort in, do you? They’re just not the same, they’ve never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What’s your surname, by the way?” Before Harry can say anything, Madam Malkin’s stands up with a smile,

“That’s you done, my dear.” Harry steps off the footstool, glad he no longer has to talk to Draco.

“Well, I’ll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose,” Draco says, looking back forward. Harry thanks Madam Malkin’s and rushes out of the store. He’s quiet while eating the ice cream Hagrid has gotten him.

“What’s up?” Hagrid asks, noticing his silence.

“Nothing,” Harry lies, not wanting to bring up the conversation again. They stop to buy him his quills and parchment. They talk to each other for a little while, normal conversation. Harry does eventually bring up Draco, but brushes it off as nothing too big, just someone being a snob. 

They soon go to Flourish and Blotts to buy his books. Harry feels a rush of nostalgia as he looks around the shops and book, picking out the books he needs. Harry lets the memories wash over him as he looks through some of the books slowly.

They soon have to get his cauldron, and Harry picks out the best pewter cauldron, knowing he needs a pewter cauldron. He got a nice one because… Well, truthfully he may or may not want to impress Severus. They also buy a nice set of scales for weighing ingredients and a collapsible brass telescope. They get to the Apothecary, which still smells of strange potion ingredients that Harry doesn’t particularly fancy. Hagrid goes up to the counter, asking for a basic supply of potion ingredients as Harry looks over some of the more expensive and rare ingredients.

Outside of the Apothecary, Hagrid checks Harry’s list one last time, “Just yer wand left- oh yeah, an’ I still haven’t gotten yeh a birthday present.”

Despite himself, he feels his face go slightly red. He still gets embarrassed when he gets presents, especially for his birthday.

“Ah, you don’t have to-”

“I know I don’t have to. Tell yeh what, I’ll get yer animal. Not a toad, toads went out of style years ago…” Hagrid goes on, while they walk. He settles on getting Harry an owl. His chest constricts painfully as he thinks of Hedwig…

Twenty minutes pass, and they soon leave the Owl Emporium, while Harry cradles the cage, holding Hedwig close. He constantly thanks Hagrid quietly.

“Don’ mention it,” Hagrid says gruffly. “Don’ expect you’ve had a lotta presents from them Dursleys. Just Ollivanders left now- only place fer wands. Ollivanders, and yeh gotta have the best wand.”

Harry can’t wait to get his wand back. He’s been itching and uncomfortable without it, feeling very exposed. They step inside the small shop, a soft bell ringing to signify their entrance. Harry looks around at the boxes lining the walls, while Hagrid sits down on the only chair. His neck prickles as he feels the charged magic in the air.

“Good afternoon,” Ollivander says softly. Harry jumps slightly, as well as Hagrid. He has to get off the chair, considering the crunch it just let out. Ollivander stands before the two of them, smiling slightly.

“Hello,” Harry says softly, watching him. Ollivander just smiles at him,

“Ah, yes.” Ollivander says, “Yes, yes. I thought I’d be seeing you soon, Harry Potter. You have your mother’s eyes,” Harry sucks in a quick, quiet breath, “It seems only yesterday she was here herself, buying her first wand. Ten-and-a-quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work.” Ollivander stands forwards slightly,

“Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it- it’s really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course.” Ollivander got so close that their noses were almost touching. Harry had the strong impulse to jump back, but he doesn’t do so, luckily.

“And that’s where…” Ollivander trails off as he touches the lightning shaped scar on his forehead. “I’m sorry to say I sold the wand that did it,” he says quietly. “Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands… well, if I’d known what that wand was going out in the world to do…” He shakes his head, before spotting Hagrid, pulling away from Harry, much to his relief.

“Rubeus! Rubeus Hagrid! How nice to see you again… Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy, wasn’t it?”

“It was, sir, yes,” Hagrid says.

“Good wand, that one. But I suppose they snapped it in half when you got expelled?” Ollivander asks, suddenly stern.

“Er- yes, they did, yes,” Hagrid says, shuffling his feet slightly, “I’ve still got the pieces, though,” He adds happily.

“But you don’t use them?” He asks sharply,

“Oh, no, sir,” Hagrid says quickly, gripping his pink umbrella tightly.

“Hmm…” He gives Hagrid one last look, before turning back to Harry, “Well, now- Mr. Potter. Let me see.” He pulls out a long tape measure from his pocket, “Which is your wand arm?”

“Right.” Harry says simply,

“Hold out your arm. That’s it.” Ollivander measures multiple different places of his body, “Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are quite the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard’s wand.” Ollivander walks off to look through the shelves as the tape measure continues to measure various parts of his body.

“That will do,” He says, causing the tape measure to crumple to a heap on the floor. “Right then, Mr. Potter. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave.” Harry nods and grips the wand loosely, waving it slightly. He knows this isn’t the right wand.

They test two more wands; maple with phoenix feather core, and an ebony with unicorn hair. Neither of them work, of course. His hand prickles as he hands back the third wand that didn’t work, not liking the feeling of foreign magic on his finger tips. Of course, that doesn’t count towards Severus' magic…

“Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we’ll find the perfect match here somewhere- I wonder, now- yes, why not- unusual combination- holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple.” Excitement bubbles up inside of himself as he grabs his wand. Warm magic rushes up his arm as soon as he wraps his fingers around the base. He feels like he’s at home. He gives it a careful flick, causing red and gold sparks to shoot out the tip. He smiles to himself as he watches them flicker out. Hagrid woops and claps, while Ollivander says happily, “Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well… how curious… how very curious…”

He grabs the wand from Harry and places it back into the box, before wrapping it up, all the while muttering how curious it is. Harry sucks on his tongue lightly, deciding to ask,

“Sorry, but what’s curious?” Ollivander looks up at him with his pale eyes,

“I remember every wand I’ve ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather- just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother- why, its brother gave you that scar.” He taps lightly on Harry’s scar.

“Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember… I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter…. After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things- terrible yes, but great.” Harry gives him a weak smile, suppressing a shiver. He hates thinking about Voldemort… He pays for his wand, before they exit the shop.

~~

The sun hangs low in the sky as the afternoon passes by slowly. Hagrid and Harry make their way down back through Diagon Alley, back through the wall, and back through the Leaky Cauldron. Harry doesn’t talk much, not caring how people gawked at them because of their strange packages. They make it to Paddington station, and Hagrid taps his shoulder,

“Got time fer a bite to eat before yer train leaves,” He says with a smile. He buys Harry a hamburger and sit down. Harry slowly eats, looking around the almost empty train station.

“You alright Harry? Yer very quiet.” Hagrid says after a few moments of them eating in silence.

Harry swallows the mouthful of burger he has, wanting to spill everything on his mind to Hagrid. He knows he can’t…

“Everyone thinks I’m special…” Harry says softly, deciding with something he probably chose when he was younger.” Everyone in the Leaky Cauldron… I don’t know magic at all, though. I’m famous because of something that I can’t even remember, let alone did on purpose.”

Hagrid leans forward and gives Harry a smile, “Don’ you worry, Harry. You’ll learn fast enough. Everyone starts at the beginning at Hogwarts, you’ll be just fine. Just be yerself. I know it’s hard. Yeh’ve been singled out, an’ that’s always hard. But yeh’ll have a great time at Hogwarts- I did- still do, ‘smatter of fact.”

Hagrid helps him onto the train, then hands him an envelope, “Yer tickets fer Hogwarts, first o’ September- King’s Cross- it’s all on yer ticket. Any problems with the Dursleys, send me a letter with yer owl, she’ll know where to find me… See yeh soon, Harry.” He says with a kind smile. Harry smiles back, before the train soon leaves the station, leaving Harry with his own thoughts. This is going to be a hard first year...


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Sorry this update took so long; I had a lot of stuff to do.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this update!

Harry's last month with the Dursleys was just as bad as he remembered it. Very quiet, with Harry spending most of his time in his room. He just quietly talked with Hedwig to have some company. He does read up a bit, just to jog his memory. Mostly on potions. He really doesn't want to fail that class again... The school books are still rather interesting, even though he already knows most of what's in them. Hedwig occasionally brought him some mice after coming back from being out.

On the last day of August, he decides that he needs to talk with Vernon and Petunia about catching a ride to King’s Cross station tomorrow. He walks downstairs, clearing his throat to alert them to his presence. Dudley lets out a scream, and quickly runs from the room. He resists the urge to roll his eyes at the behavior.

“Uncle Vernon?” He asks, stepping slightly into the room. Vernon just grunts to let him know he's listening. “I need to be at King’s Cross station tomorrow to go to Hogwarts.”

Vernon just grunts again. “Could you give me a lift tomorrow?” Once again he grunts. He assumes this means yes. “Thank you.” Harry turns to walk back upstairs, before Vernon cuts in,

“Funny way to get to a wizards’ school, the train. Magic carpets got all punctures, haven't they?” Harry doesn't reply to the comment. “Where is this school, anyway?” Vernon asks. Harry decides to tell him,

“It's in Scotland.” He says simply, itching to go back to his room. “I take the train from platform nine and three-quarters at eleven o’clock.”

Vernon and Petunia stare at him for a moment, “Platform what?” Vernon asks in disbelief.

“Nine and three-quarters.” He repeats, slightly annoyed. He knows that they heard him.

“Don't talk rubbish, there is no platform nine and three-quarters,” Vernon says, annoyed. Much like Harry feels right now.

“It's on my ticket.”

“Barking, howling mad, the lot of them. You'll see. You just wait. Alright, we'll take you to Kings Cross. We're going up to London tomorrow anyway, or I wouldn't bother,” Vernon grumbles out.

Harry lets a small sly smile slip when Vernon and Petunia aren't looking. He knows exactly why. “Why are you going to London?” He asks anyway.

“Taking Dudley to the hospital,” Vernon growls out. “Gotta have that ruddy tail removed before he goes to Smeltings.”

~~~

Harry wakes up around five-thirty in the morning, gasping quietly. He's just been awakened from another nightmare. He shakes his head, telling himself it was nothing but a dream. He hasn't had a good night's sleep for years now. He can barely scrape up five or six hours a night. He rubs at his eyes, knowing they already have bags under them. He lets out a sigh and gathers his things together, waiting for Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley to wake up.

When they do, they pile his stuff into the car and get in. They manage to get to Kings Cross at around half past ten. He's got thirty minutes to get to the train, which is more than enough time for him. Vernon dumps his bag into a cart, before wheeling it to the platform for him. How so very kind of him. He knows the real reason he's doing this.

“Well, there you are, boy. Platform nine- platform ten. Your platform should be somewhere in the middle, but they don't seem to have built that yet, do they?” Vernon asks with a nasty smile. Harry just gives him a long look, grabbing his things. He doesn't want to put up with Vernon, or any of the Dursleys, for much longer. 

He waits around for little while, knowing the Weasleys will be there to help him ‘find’ Platform nine and three-quarters. Right now he has to figure out what he's going to do when he sees them, especially Ron and Ginny. He still loves Ginny, but not in the way he used to. He hasn't seen Ron for years since he died…

“-packed with Muggles, of course-” He catches onto the end of the conversation as he sees Molly with her kids. His throat tightens at the sight of them, but he ignores the feeling. He can't afford to get emotional now.

“Now, what's the platform number?” Molly asks her kids.

“Nine and three-quarters!” Ginny cuts in, looking up at her with wide eyes, “Mom, can't I go…” She asks weakly. They all look so… young.

“You're not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet. Alright, Percy, you go first.” Harry watches silently as Percy runs through the platform. He sucks on a hard breath, calming himself as Fred and George go through the barrier… Fred… He was killed. He remembers that… he pulls up the courage to talk to Molly,

“Excuse me,” Harry says quietly, stepping forward.

“Hello dear,” she says with a smile. “First time at Hogwarts?” Not even close. “Ron’s new, too.” Harry manages to look over at Ron. He's so small and lanky… and he can save him. He will save him. He'll save everyone… Even if it means dying in the process.

“Yes, the thing is- I don't know how to-”

“Get onto the platform?” She asks kindly, and Harry nods.

“Not to worry, all you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop and don't be scared you'll crash into it. Best do it at a run if you're nervous. Go on, go now before Ron.”

“Okay,” Harry says, looking at the barrier. He drums his fingers on the cart for a second, before quickly running to the barrier. He passes through without a problem. The scarlet engine of the Hogwarts Express greets him, and he smiles slightly. He can hear Neville tell his grandmother how he lost his toad.

Harry presses through the crowd to get to the train, moving to put away his trunk. It's too heavy for him right now… Damn.

“Want a hand?” George asks him, walking up. Harry nods,

“Yes, please.”

“Oi, Fred! C’mere and help!” George calls out. With the twins’ help, Harry was able to lift his think into the compartment.

“Thank you,” Harry says, lightly pushing some hair out of his eyes.

“What's that?” One of the two asks, noticing his scar… Oops. Oh well.

“Blimey, are you-?” George cuts himself off.

“He is,” Fred says. They're overreacting… “Aren't you?” Fred asks, looking at Harry.

“What?” Harry asks, feigning ignorance.

“Harry Potter,” The twins chorus.

“Oh, him. I mean, yes. I am.” He says with a shrug. The twins gawk at him, and before Harry can say anything, Molly chimes in,

“Fred? George? Are you there?”

“Coming, Mom.” They give Harry one last look, before they hop off the train. He lets out a sigh of relief. He decides to not watch what the Weasleys do, considering he might start crying. He just relaxes in his seat, looking out the window with a far away look. He really can change everything… he can save everyone… He rubs hard at his eyes to clear away the tears. Not a good time to start crying, considering Ron will be in here at any moment. The train groans softly as it begins to move, before speeding away from the station. He relaxes as the familiar hum of the train settles.

The compartment door slides open, and Ron pokes his head into the room, “Anyone sitting there?” He asks, pointing to the chair opposite of Harry. “Everywhere else is full.”

Harry doesn’t trust his voice enough to talk, so he just nods. Ron sits down and sneaks a look over at him, before looking away, pretending to not have been looked. Harry laughs internally; Ron was never a very inconspicuous person. Harry’s eyes slide over to the door as he hears footsteps approaching. It’s Fred and George.

“Hey, Ron. Listen, we’re going down the middle of the train- Lee Jordan’s got a giant tarantula down there.” Harry resists an eye roll. He know’s Ron is an arachnophobe.

“Right…” Ron mumbles softly, looking away from the twins.

“Harry,” Fred suddenly says, “did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. See you later, then.” Harry and Ron say bye, before the twins of them leave the two of them alone once again.

“Are you really Harry Potter?” Ron blurts out suddenly after a few seconds of silence. Harry just nods in response, looking over at Ron. His heart clenches painfully and he bites down on his tongue for a moment to calm himself down, distract himself.

“Oh- well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George’s jokes,” Ron says. “And have you really got- you know…” He trains off, pointing towards Harry’s forehead. Harry just reaches up and pulls away the lock of hair covering the scar.

“So that’s where You-Know-Who-”

“Yes, but I can’t remember it.” He says, not wanting to be reminded.

“Nothing?”

“Well- I can remember a lot of green light, but nothing else.”

“Wow,” Ron says, seemingly amazed. He stares at Harry for a few moments longer, before looking away after realizing what he was doing.

“Are all your family wizards?” Harry asks, not liking the silence of the room. He's heard nothing but silence for too long.

“Er- yes, I think so,” Ron says, obviously surprised he asked something, “I think Mom’s got a second cousin who’s an accountant, but we never talk about him.”

“So you know a lot of magic already.” He says with a small smile. God, this is hard. All he wants to do is collapse into Ron’s arms and sob his heart out, but he can’t. And he never will be able to. He can’t tell anyone else about this, because this is his burden, and his burden alone. The shockwave of any person knowing, at least this early on, could have irreversible effects.

“I heard you went to live with Muggles,” Ron says suddenly. “What were they like?”

“Horrible- well, not all of them. My aunt, uncle and cousin are though. Wish I’d had three wizard brothers,” Harry says with a shrug.

“Five,” Ron says, slightly exaggeratedly. “I’m the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I’ve got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left- Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy’s a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they’re really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it’s no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I’ve got Bill’s old robes, Charlie’s old wand, and Percy’s old rat.”

Ron reaches inside of his jacket, pulling out a rat. Scabbers, if Harry remembers correctly. Harry focuses on the rat, to allow himself a break. Keeping eye contact with Ron while talking to him is unbelievably hard.

“His name’s Scabbers and he’s useless, he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a prefect, but they couldn’t aff- I mean, I got Scabbers.” Ron blushes a bit from embarrassment as Scabbers curls up in his lap. He must think he’s said too much, so he looks out the window. Harry smiles slightly, a weak, tired smile that he knows Ron can’t see. He’s so tired. He looks at his lap, a sudden wave of exhaustion washing over him. He takes a few calming breaths, before speaking up, talking about how he didn’t have much money before Hagrid came.

“... and until Hagrid told me, I had no idea about being a wizard or You-Know-Who.” Harry finishes off. He knows that when he was younger, he most likely would have said his name,but he really doesn’t want to. He hates that son of a bitch.

They talk for a few more minutes before they settle into a comfortable silence, looking out of the window of the train, watching the trees and plains rush pass them. It’s a calming sight for Harry; it lets his mind just focus on what he’s seeing.

A while passes before Harry is shaken out of his reverie, when a clattering is heard outside the corridor. A smiling woman slides open the door and asks, “Anything off the cart, dears?”

Harry nods and stands up. He is quite hungry, considering he didn’t have breakfast. He can faintly hear Ron mumbling about how his mother packed him sandwiches as he steps out into the corridor. He buys quite a few things, and brings it all back into the compartment. Ron stares at the huge amount of sweets in his arms with surprise. He sets it down on the chair,

“Hungry, are you?” Ron asks finally.

“Starving,” Harry replies simply, grabbing one of the pumpkin pastries. Ron takes out a lumpy package and unwraps a sandwich.

“She always forgets I don’t like corn beef.” He says with a sigh. Harry looks up,

“You can have some of my stuff. I bought way too much; bought with my stomach instead of my head.” Ron looks up at him hopefully,

“Can I?” Harry nods and gives him a kind smile. Ron grabs a few things and they start eating and talking with each other, Harry commenting about how realistic the chocolate frogs look. They start talking about the wizards one can find in the packages, and start looking through their chocolate frog boxes to see which ones they’ve got.

“Did you know in Muggle photos, they don’t move at all?” Harry says, with a slight grin. He knows this confused Ron the first time through. Ron gives him a wide eyed look,

“Do they? What, they don’t move at all?” Ron asks in awe. “Weird!”

They talk a little while longer as Harry studies the different cards he’s gotten just from these chocolate frogs. He soon reaches over to grab the bag of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans.

“You want to be careful with those,”Ron warns Harry, “when they say every flavor, they mean every flavor- you know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate, peppermint, and marmalade, but then you get spinach, liver, and tripe. George reckons he had a booger-flavored one once.”

Ron picks up a green colored bean, looking at it for a moment, before nibbling at it,

“Eugh- see? Sprouts.” Harry laughs lightly and they eat the beans together. He gets some good ones and some bad ones. The scenery outside of the train changes, going to more of a wild, forest type area. They’re getting closer. Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door, and Neville pokes his head in, looking tearful.

“Sorry, but have you seen a toad at all?” He asks nervously. Harry shakes his head, but quickly adds,

“Don’t worry too much, I’m sure you’ll find him.” Neville gives him a worried smile and soon leaves. Ron talks about why he doesn’t know why he’s even looking for the toad. Harry shrugs slightly, before Ron looks up,

“I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn’t work. Look…”

He pulls out the old, battered wand, and Harry notices that he can see some unicorn hair sticking out of the end of the wand. Suddenly, Hermione pokes her head into the compartment,

“Has anyone seen a toad? Neville’s lost one.” Harry swallows hard. She too looks very young. He can feel his eyes stinging slightly as he quickly looks away.

“We’ve already told him we haven’t seen it,” Ron says, but Hermione isn’t listening. Instead, she’s looking at the wand in his hand.

“Oh, are you doing magic? Let’s see it, then.” Harry manages a small smile, remembering how she was at this age. Hermione sits down, and Ron looks slightly taken aback.

“Er- alright.” He says, before he clears his throat.

“Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow,  
Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow.”

He waves his wand, but nothing happens. Harry isn’t surprised. He does feel a bit bad for him.

“Are you sure that’s a real spell?” Hermione asks. “Well, it’s not very good, is it? I’ve tried a few simple spells just for practice and it’s all worked for me. Nobody in my family’s magic at all, it was ever much a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it’s the very best school of witchcraft there is, I’ve heard- I’ve learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough- I’m Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?”

Hermione said that all out in what seems to be a single breath. Harry is impressed. Harry looks over at Ron for a moment, noticing his stunned expression. He holds back a laugh.

“I’m Ron Weasley,” Ron mutters, shaking out of his stun.

“Harry Potter,” Harry says,knowing what her reaction is going to be like.

“Are you really?” Hermione asks. “I know about you, of course- I got a few extra books for background reading, and you’re in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century.”

Harry has to think for a moment, before saying, “Am I?” He didn’t know what else to say.

“Goodness, didn’t you know, I’d have found out everything I could if it were me,” she says. “Do either of you know what House you’ll be in? I’ve been asking around, and I hope I’m in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn’t be too bad… Anyway, we’d better go and look for Neville’s toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we’ll be there soon.”

Hermione leaves, taking Neville, who was outside the compartment, with her.

“Whatever House I’m in, I hope she’s not in it,” Ron says as soon as they leave. “Stupid spell- George gave it to me, bet he knew it was a dud.”

“What House are your brothers in?” Harry asks, looking at Ron.

“Gryffindor,” Ron says, gloom setting into his voice. “Mom and Dad were in it, too. I don’t know what they’ll say if I’m not. I don’t suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin.”

“That’s the house You-Know-Who was in, right?” He asks curiously.

“Yeah,” Ron says with a shiver. He looks a bit downtrodden. 

“You know, I think the ends of Scabbers’ whiskers are a bit lighter,” Harry says, trying to take his mind off the Houses. “So, what did your brothers do when they left Hogwarts?”

“Charlie's in Romania studying dragons, and Bill’s in Africa doing something for Gringotts,” Ron says simply. “Did you hear about Gringotts? It's been all over the Daily Prophet, but I don't suppose you get that with the Muggles- someone tried to rob a high security vault.” Harry blinks at him for a moment. He remembers this, just barely.

“Really? What happened to them?”

“Nothing, that's why it's such big news. They haven't been caught. My dad says it must've been a powerful Dark wizard to get round Gringotts, but they don't think they took anything, that's what's odd. ‘Course, everyone gets scared when something like this happens in case You-Know-Who’s behind it.”

Harry hums and nods, thinking for a moment. Voldemort obviously went into the vault to get the philosophers stone. Just why did he wait this long? Did he finally get the energy to try? He doesn't know and probably will never know.

“What's your Quidditch team?” Ron suddenly asks. He decides to act like he doesn't have one.

“Er- I don't really know any,” he says sheepishly.

“What!” Ron looks dumbfounded. “Oh, you wait, it's the best game in the world-” he goes off on a tangent talking about Quidditch and different famous players. He already knows this information and then some, but he listens in as if he's interested anyway.

After a few minutes, three boys enter. Ah, it's Draco, Crabbe and Goyle. How fun. He looks over at Draco with a slight frown.

“Is it true? They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter’s in this compartment. So it's you, is it?” Draco presses. Harry purses his lips and nods stiffly, his eyes looking over the three boys.

“Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle,” Draco says carelessly. “And my names Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.”

Ron coughs slightly, seemingly to hide a laugh. Draco looks pointedly over at Ron,

“Think my name’s funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford.”

Draco turns back to Harry, seemingly not noticing how angry he is getting. “You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.”

He holds his hand out, so Harry can shake it. But Harry doesn't move. He gives Draco a sharp look,

“I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself. Actually, I think I've just found myself face to face with one of those kind,” Harry says coldly. He's simmering with anger. How dare he insult Ron. 

Before, Draco didn't turn red, but this time he definitely did. His face colors with embarrassment and anger. Harry allows himself a small smirk at his reaction,

“I’d be careful if I were you, Potter,” Draco says slowly. “Unless you're a bit polite you'll go the same way as your parents,” Harry grinds his teeth slightly at that. “They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you.” Ron stands up angrily, while Harry just crosses his legs, clasping his hands over his knee. Trying to get a reaction out of him won't work.

“Say that again,” Ron says, his face as red as his hair.

“Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?” Malfoy sneers.

“Unless you get out now,” Harry says calmly, his eyes shining coldly.

“But we don't feel like leaving, do we, boys? We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some.”

Goyle reaches for the chocolate frogs next to Ron- Ron leaps forward, but before he can so much as touch Goyle, Goyle lets out a horrible yell.

Scabbers is hanging off his pinky, sharp teeth sinking into Goyle’s knuckle- Crabbe and Malfoy back away as Goyle swings Scabbers around and around, howling, before Scabbers is finally flung off. He hits the window, and all three of the boys leave right away. Harry snorts at them as Hermione steps in.

“What has been going on?” She asks, looking at the mess on the floor as Ron picks up Scabbers by the tail.

“I think he's been knocked out,” Ron says to Harry. He takes a closer look at Scabbers, “No- I don't believe it- He's gone back to sleep.”

“You've met Malfoy before?” Harry takes a moment to explain how he met him at Diagon Alley.

“I've heard of his family,” Ron says darkly. “They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn't believe it. He says Malfoy’s father didn't need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side.” Ron turns to Hermione, “Can we help you with something?”

“You'd better hurry up and put your robes on, I've just been up to the front to ask the conductor, and he says we're nearly there. You haven't been fighting, have you? You'll be in trouble before we even get there!” Hermione exclaims.

“Scabbers has been fighting, not us,” Ron says, scowling at her. “Would you mind leaving while we change?”

“Alright- I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors,” Hermione says stiffly. “And you've got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?”

Ron glares at her as she leaves. Harry looks outside, noting how low in the sky the sun is. It's getting late.

They take off their jackets and change into their long robes. Ron’s were a bit short for him, one could see his sneakers underneath them.

Suddenly, a voice echos through the train, “We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes’ time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately.”

The train slows before coming to a complete stop. Everyone files out of the train, and Harry notices Hagrid. He smiles slightly.

“Firs’ years! Firs’ years over here! Alright there, Harry?” Harry nods and smiles again.

“C’mon, follow me- any more firs’ years? Mind yer step, now! Firs’ years follow me!” Hagrid says happily.

Pushing their way through the crowd, they walk down a steep, narrow path. No one spoke much, and Neville sniffles softly.

“Yeh’ll get yer firs’ sights o’ Hogwarts in a sec, “ Hagrid says over his shoulder. “Jus’ round this bend here.”

As the first years go ‘ooooh’, Harry is biting the inside of his cheek. He hasn't seen Hogwarts standing like this in such a long time… He lets his eyes rake over the massive castle.

“No more’n four to a boat!” Hagrid calls out as everyone climbs into one of the small boats.

“Everyone in?” Hagrid asks, “right then- FORWARD!”

The small boats move all at once, gliding through the water of the lake.

“Heads down!” Hagrid calls as they pass through a curtain of ivy. “Oy, you there! Is this your toad?” Hagrid asks, and Neville cries his toad’s name happily.

They soon hit shore, and everyone gets off the boats. They walk up the stone steps leading to Hogwarts. Hagrid asks Neville if he's got his toad, before knocking on the door. Harry swallows hard, staring at the door.

This is going to be a long year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to say, as a twin myself, all twins act like Fred and George all the time, even if in secret. >;)


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am SOO sorry this took so long to get out! I had so much stuff to do over these last few weeks, so I only just had time to finish the chapter.
> 
> You might notice that the chapter is slightly shorter than the others; that's because the ending of the chapter felt good enough, without going on. I like to stop the chapters at certain points of the story, to keep the flow.

The large wooden door swings open as soon as Hagrid knocks on it. Headmaster- no- Professor McGonagall stands there, tall and confident. Others are obviously a little bit intimidated, but Harry Isn’t nervous at all. He knows how kind McGonagall is. He knows she just likes to give the kids a little scare and has a stern type of love.

“The firs’ years, Professor McGonagall,” Hagrid says, moving out of the way for the first years.

“Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here.” Professor McGonagall opens the door wider, holding it open, allowing the children to file in. Harry looks around the large hall they walk into. He allows himself to get washed into memories of his years at Hogwarts. The group of first years follows McGonagall across the stone floor, as voices flit around the hallways, coming from every direction. McGonagall brings the first years to the small waiting chamber. It’s a little bit of a tight squeeze, but they all manage to fit into the small space.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” Professor McGonagall finally says, once everyone is settled. “The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly…” Harry looks around at the familiar faces around him as McGonagall goes on about the banquet. He already knows what will happen, so he doesn’t pay attention. Harry wonders silently when the ghosts will come in, as McGonagall finishes up her speech.

“The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting.” Her eyes focus on Neville’s strangely adjusted cloak, and the smudge on Ron’s nose.

“I shall return when we are ready for you,” Professor McGonagall says curtly, “please wait quietly.”

She leaves the chamber, as whispers break out. Harry tries to listen into some of the conversations, but none of them are very noteworthy. He vaguely hears Ron talk about how it’s a test, and how Fred said it hurt. Harry remembers how nervous he was when he heard that. He was terrified at the thought of taking a test in front of the entire school. Since he does know, he isn’t troubled in the slightest… Well, that’s a lie. He doesn’t know what the hat will do if he does lock off the memories from his past life, or what the hat will do if it does see the memories from before. Either way, the hat might say something about it, and that would be disastrous. Quirrell is still alive, with Voldemort connected to his head. He cannot hear anything about this. He’ll settle with hiding the memories, and try to explain some things to the hat before it says anything.

Suddenly, he’s shaken out of his thoughts when someone gasps behind him. Harry turns around just in time to see the ghosts floating out through the walls, bickering as they usually do. They talk happily with the kids for a few seconds before McGonagall steps into the room again.

“Move along now,” McGonagall says sharply, eyeing everyone in the room. “The Sorting Ceremony is about to start.” Harry can’t stop the smile that spreads across his face. He is so excited, considering he gets to see so many people he hasn’t seen in years.

“Now, form a line,” Professor McGonagall says, and all the new students form a single file line. Harry doesn't bother checking who he's next to, as he looks around the Great Hall as they walk in. He smiles warmly as he looks up at the bewitched ceiling, as Hermione explains to him why it looks like that. He nods mutely as he looks around the Great Hall, currently only looking at the students. He needs to… Gather the energy to look up at all the Professors.

It doesn't take long for the sorting hat to go off on the tangent it does every year, singing out the familiar tune. Harry softly hums along, before the hat finishes singing,

“-For I am the Thinking Cap!” The sorting hat says triumphantly as the first years stare with awe at the hat. Everyone in the hall applauds the hat, Harry included.

“So we just have to try on the hat!” Ron whispers quietly to Harry, “I'll kill Fred. He was going on about wrestling a troll.” Harry laughs softly at that, trying to imagine anyone of the first years trying to wrestle a troll.

The ceremony goes along normally. Hufflepuff, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor. It goes on like that for some time, Hermione and Neville going up and getting sorted into Gryffindor. Soon, the last names beginning with P started, and at last, he could hear his name called,

“Potter, Harry!” Whispers break out from all around as soon as McGonagall announces his name. He's used to the attention from the other students because of his history, so he doesn't flinch away from the stares and whispers. He steps up to the stool and sits down, looking over the large crowd one last time before his vision is obscured by the sorting hat.

“Hmmm… Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage I see... “ The sorting hat trails off, most likely finding the walled-off section of his memories. “What's this? You already know Occlumency? Professor Snape would be able to teach you more if you're placed in Slytherin.” Harry mentally shakes his head.

‘No, thank you. Professor Snape is a fine person, but I'd prefer to be in Gryffindor.’ The hat stays quiet for a moment, before talking again,

“You're misplaced, aren't you?” The hat asks mysteriously, “not the Harry Potter you should be.” Harry sighs. It found out. He lets the mental barriers drop, allowing the hat to go through his memories. It stays quiet for a few more moments, so Harry quickly adds,

‘Don't tell anyone about this, please. It's important, and too soon for anyone to know.’ After a little while, the sorting hat agrees with him.

“Then it should be… GRYFFINDOR!” The hat says, yelling out the last word. Harry lets out a soft sigh of relief and he stands up. Cheers erupt from the Gryffindor table as he's welcomed in. Percy shakes his hand vigorously as the twins chant that they got Harry Potter. Harry resists rolling his eyes at the rather immature behavior.

Harry glances at Dumbledore for a moment, his breath catching. It's been so long since he's seen him…

Ron soon gets sorted into Gryffindor, and Dumbledore soon welcomes everyone with his customary, slightly mad, speech. Soon, the tables filled with food, and everyone digs in. Nicolas, the Gryffindor ghost, talks with Harry and the others about how he'd like to eat. Soon, of course, he shows everyone why he's called nearly headless Nick. Harry laughs at everyone's reactions.

After dinner, when dessert pops onto the table, everyone starts to talk about the families. He can hear Hermione and Percy talking about lessons they might be learning.

Harry feels so warm and comfortable surrounded by friends… so comfortable, in fact, that he decides to turn and look at the High Table. He spots Hagrid drinking and McGonagall talking with Dumbledore. Harry finally lets his eyes roam to where Severus is sitting, and he can feel his heart jump lightly. He's talking with Quirrell, that bastard. Suddenly, he turns to look over at Harry, straight into his eyes. Harry blinks for a moment, ignoring the searing pain in his scar due to Voldemort to give a warm smile in Severus’ direction.

His reaction was rather comical, to say the least. He looked very surprised that a first year, who has no knowledge of him, is smiling at him with such… kindness. Harry is soon able to break away his gaze when one of the kids at the table notices him staring,

“Why are you looking at Professor Snape?” The boy asks. Harry feigns confusion,

“Who's Professor Snape?” He asks lightly. Percy looks over to him,

“He's the Professor that teaches Potions. Although he does want Defense Against Dark Arts. He was the one you were…” Percy pauses, looking momentarily confused, “smiling at? Why on earth were you smiling at him, Harry?”

Harry just shrugs and smiles, “Why wouldn't I? He's going to be my teacher, isn't he? Might as well make a good first impression before the classes start.” Percy seems to take the answer, considering he nods and goes back to his conversation with Hermione.

The hall falls silent as Dumbledore- well, he should call him Headmaster, shouldn't he?- stands up. He starts up his speech about how if any student is caught in the forest, they will be punished. No magic in the hallways and corridors, and other simple rules. He's heard this multiple times already, so he doesn't bother paying much attention. The whole banquet seems to have gone by in a flash. 

Soon, the entire school is singing the school song. Harry joins in quietly, smiling lightly. The Weasley twins finish last, and soon, everyone is told to follow their pretexts to their towers. Harry is so tired that he doesn't bother reacting to Peeves or the talking paintings.

At the portrait of the Fat Lady, Harry nearly says the password before Percy does, but stops himself just in time. Everyone walks into the common room, and soon to their rooms. Harry yawns softly and changes into his pajamas, snuggling underneath his blankets. He mutely hears Ron complain about Scabbers before he falls asleep.

He does, however, cast a silencing charm around his bed. He doesn't want to wake anyone up with his nightmares.

He dreams faintly and fleetingly, one moment he's talking to Voldemort under the turban, the next Severus is standing in front of him, laughing coldly. Harry wakes up two or three times that night, not getting enough rest at all. He's glad he remembered a silencing charm…

~~~~

The next day, Harry pointedly ignores the loud whispers from all around him. He hates being seen as someone unapproachable because of his family name, and what he survived. Harry surveys the school, trying to remember exactly where each staircase went. It's been years since he's been in the school, actually needing to remember where the classes were.

He checks his schedule for a moment, noting his classes. He nearly fell asleep during the History of Magic, like he did when he was younger. It was much worse this year because he already in knows the information. Charms and transfiguration went by quickly. He's always liked the classes, especially transfiguration. Hermione impresses McGonagall once again, which doesn't surprise Harry. He's glad and proud of her that she's good at this.

When Defense Against the Dark Arts came along, Harry had to grind his teeth to keep his mouth shut. He absolutely despises Quirrell and treats him with as little respect as he can without getting a punishment. His room smells disgusting; Garlic; and his turban smells even worse. Of course, it would. Voldemort is hiding under the folds, after all.

~~~~

On Friday, Ron and Harry eat their breakfast in the Great hall, talking about generally anything.

“What do you have today?” Harry asks, looking up at Ron.

“Double Potions with the Slytherins,” Harry's heart does a funny little jump at that, “Snape’s Head of Slytherin House. They say he always favors them- we’ll be able to see if it's true.” Harry nods, swallowing slightly and looking off into the distance. He finally gets to be close to Severus again… Well, that sounded a little creepy. He's just glad he's alive and breathing.

The mail soon arrives, and Harry looks around for Hedwig, wondering if he got something. She comes down with a note in her claws. Harry accepts it and begins to read over the scratchy writing. Ah, it's a letter from Hagrid. He just wants to check in on him. He quickly writes him a response, saying he'll meet him as soon as possible.

Potions is exactly as he remembered. Severus is as cold as usual, but it doesn't stop the warmth from spreading through his chest. He does give Harry a strange, quizzical look when he walked in at the beginning of class, probably because of him smiling at him. Oh well. He's glad he did.

Snape takes roll call, stopping in his name for a moment,

“Ah, yes,” Severus says smoothly, looking at Harry. God, his voice is so nice to hear right now. He hasn't heard the deep timbre in years, “Harry Potter. Our new- celebrity.” Severus almost seems to spit out the last word, but it doesn't cause Harry's smile to waver, or the warmth in his eyes to cool.

Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle snigger behind their hands at what Severus says, but Harry isn't bothered one bit. Soon, Severus finishes roll call and looks up at the class. His deep black eyes shone in the light, not clouded from death like the last time Harry had seen them, all those years ago.

“You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making,” he begins, keeping his voice low, knowing he doesn't have a need to make it louder than it is already.

“As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you to really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…. I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death- if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.”

Harry glances over at Ron, who raises an eyebrow at him. Hermione obviously wants to prove herself that she is not a ‘dunderhead’, as Severus so eloquently put it.

“Potter!” Severus says suddenly, “what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

Harry blinks, momentarily surprised, before thinking for a moment… What was it..? Oh! “The Draught of Living Death.” He answers smoothly, his eyes shining mischievously. Severus hums, watching closely for a moment,

“Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?” Harry scrunches his nose up slightly. They're in a goat's stomach, which is rather gross to him.

“The stomach of a goat, sir.” He answers, giving him a small smile. 

“And what's the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?” Harry has to think for a moment, before answering,

“They're the same thing, they just go by different names. It is also called aconite if my memory serves me well.” Severus nods, watching him.

“Well done, Potter,” Severus says, obviously surprised that he knew all the information. He considers him for a moment, before saying, “One point to Gryffindor for being prepared.” 

Harry can't help the smile that widens on his face, nor does he stop the blush that spreads across his cheeks. He's so happy! He knows this is a childish thing to get excited about, but to hell with that, he's supposed to be a child!

Soon, the class was divided into pairs to brew a simple potion to cure boils. Harry silently watches Severus for a few moments as he sweeps around the room, his robes billowing out around him with practiced ease. Snape looks over at him for a moment, and soon Harry pulls away from his gaze, so he and Ron can weight dried nettles and crush snake fangs. He frowns a bit when he notices that he isn't criticizing Draco as much as he does with every other student, including him.

He glances over to Neville. He sees as he is just about to drop porcupine quills into the cauldron… with the flame still on. He quickly turns and grabs Neville’s hand before he can drop the quills in, remembering what happened the last time as he pulls him away from the cauldron. They stumble and land on the floor, the quills landing just short of the pot, some being burned because of the flames.

The whole classroom is silent as Harry curses, looking at his palm. A few quills, maybe five, are sticking out of his hand, and by the feeling, they're quite deep. He probably shouldn't have grabbed onto Neville’s hand so hard, but he remembers what happened the last time he dropped them into the boiling concoction, so he didn’t want to take chances. Severus walks over, surveying the situation with a calculating eye.

“Longbottom, were you about to add the porcupine quills with the cauldron on the fire?” Severus asks, as Neville nods, obviously confused and shocked. Severus shakes his head and sighs,

“You're lucky Potter stopped you when he did. If you added those quills, the potion would have exploded, and you would be covered in the unfinished potion. You’d have boils all over you.” Neville pales at what could have happened as Severus walks over to Harry, kneeling down and grabbing his injured hand.

Harry’s cheeks color a small bit as he inspects his hand. He sighs and stands up, turning to Ron, “Take Potter to the hospital wing.” He says sternly. Ron nods as Harry stands up, letting out a hiss of pain. He frowns slightly when he thinks he'll be unable to finish the potion. He knows how to take out the quills, so he turns around, grabbing a pair of scissors and pliers without anyone noticing, before walking out of the room with Ron. Just outside the classroom, he stops walking, looking at his hand.

“Harry, what are you doing?” Ron asks him as he watches Harry with wide eyes, looking a bit green. Harry doesn't respond, using the scissors to cut off the tops of the quills, releasing some is the pressure. He hands the scissors to Ron.

Ron stared at him, watching as he grabs the scissors. There are only five quills in his hand, so it shouldn't take long to get them out.

He lets out a breath, before grabbing the end of one of the quills, twisting and pulling it out of his hand. Blood runs down his palm, causing him to grind his teeth together slightly. He hears Ron groan, knowing he's probably feeling sick from the sight. Harry repeats the motions with the four other quills, sighing softly as he finishes. He pulls his wand from his robes,

“Episkey,” He quietly whispers, using his wand in his good hand. The small punctures on his hand close up quickly in a soft glow of magic light. He slides his wand back into his pocket after cleaning up the blood. He looks over at Ron, who’s staring at him with wide eyes. He sighs softly, “I’ll explain later.” He says before he walks back into the classroom. Severus turns to the two boys with a glare,

“I told you two to go to the hospital wing,” Severus says, obviously unhappy. Harry simply holds out his hand, palm up, showing the healed wounds. It takes a few minutes before the two boys are allowed to work on their potion once again. Harry feels a rush of satisfaction at that, happy to be able to finish.

~~~~

After the end of Potions, Ron and Harry head to Hagrid’s cabin. Harry smiled slightly at the familiar look of the small wooden house. Harry raps his knuckles on the door while he looks around. He hears a dog barking, while Hagrid tells the dog to stay back. The wooden door swings open, and Hagrid smiles at the two,

“Come on in,” He says, struggling to keep back the large black hound. The two boys step into the small, one room house. It’s comfortingly familiar to Harry, with the meats hanging from the ceiling to the old fireplace.

“Make yerselves at home,” Hagrid says with a smile. Harry and Ron sit down, and Harry clears his throat,

“Hagrid, this is Ron Weasley. Ron, this is Rubeus Hagrid,” Harry says with a small smile, as Hagrid starts to boil some water for tea and set rock cakes out for them.

“Another Weasley, Eh?” Hagrid asks, glancing at Ron’s freckles. “I spent half me life chasin’ yer twin brothers away from the forest.”

The rock cakes dry and the raisins in them were hard as rocks, so Harry and Ron had to pretend to enjoy them while Hagrid goes on about their first classes. Fang, Hagrid’s hound, rests his head on Harry’s legs while Hagrid talks. Hagrid then goes on to talk about Filch and Mrs. Norris, how the cat won’t stop following him around.

“Harry saved Neville Longbottom in Potions today!” Ron soon chimes in with a grin. Hagrid looks over at Harry and gives him a wide smile,

“Good fer ya, Harry!” They talk about Potions for a little longer, before Hagrid asks Ron how Charlie is doing. Harry lets his eyes roam over the work table, noticing a piece of the Daily Prophet, talking about how Gringotts was broken into.

“Hagrid, do you think Gringotts was broken into while we were there? It was just on my birthday, as well.” Hagrid doesn’t meet his eye, and just offers him another one of the disgusting rock cakes. Harry frowns slightly at that; He already knows what happened, but he doesn’t like it when information is held from him.

~~~~

Ron and Harry soon leave for dinner, with more rock cakes in their pockets. Harry is going to throw them away once he gets back into his room. So far, the day has gone well. He did get to finally talk with Severus, so that’s a plus, even if he did get stabbed by quills.

“Are you going to explain what you did in the hallway before?” Ron asks him suddenly. Harry looks over at him with wide eyes for a moment, before he sighs heavily,

“Can I tell you about it tomorrow? I’m hungry and tired…” Harry trails off, looking over at Ron. Ron frowns slightly for a moment before he nods,

“Alright, but you have to tell me tomorrow.”

~~

After dinner, Harry is exhausted, dragging his feet slightly as he reaches his room. He’s so tired, in fact, that he collapses onto the bed, falling asleep immediately, without putting up a silencing charm around the bed...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, about the quills, that is how you're supposed to take them out. I know cause I watch this youtube show and this dude purposefully got stuck my a porcupine to show the correct way to take out quills XD


	6. Chapter 5

Grotesque fingers claw at his legs as he desperately reaches out, pumping his arms forward to get leverage. He’s floating in something thick, sticky and clotted; He can't see, nor can he breathe, and the hands are just pulling him down further.

What seems like hours pass before he emerges to the surface, gasping for breath as he clears his eyes. He feels a wave of nausea roll over him when he realizes what he's swimming in… Of course, it's blood. Why wouldn't it be blood? He looks around, pupils shrunk to the size of pinpricks. He can't see land, just the thick, metallic smelling sea of blood. He feels his limbs growing weaker as he struggles to stay afloat before a soft whisper comes from behind him.

“Harry.” It was barely audible, and most people would miss it, but because of how panicked Harry is, he notices it. He spins around, eyes wide as he looks for the course of the sound. The blood in his hair and on his face is rapidly drying and cracking, leaving his skin feeling taut and filthy.

Suddenly, a hand is held out to him, a warm, soft glow coming from the skin. He looks up and sees his mother's face. He relaxes slightly, grabbing her hand. She slowly pulls him out of the thick blood, the hands that were grabbing at his ankles seemingly gone. 

When he's finally able to stand on the sea of blood, her hand tightens around his wrist. His eyes widen as he watches her hand morph and distorts, nails growing longer, yellowing, the knuckles becoming more prominent. Harry gasps and tries to pull his hand away, but the creature, no longer his mother, pulls back, claws digging painfully into his skin.

“Stop!” Harry said, wincing in pain as the creature tugs on his arm again.

“Why didn't you save us? Since when did your life matter more than ours?” the voice coming from the… The thing is distorted and obviously contains more than one voice. Harry doesn't have to think for long to realize why. It's his friends. The ones he let die after the war. Ron, Hermione, Snape, the Weasleys, among others…

Harry shakes his head as tears sting his eyes, “I'm sorry! I didn't mean to… I should have died I know-” suddenly, the world around him darkens, blackening his vision completely. The silence is deafening, as he thrusts his hand out forward, watching inky back tendrils surround his arms, swallowing them whole. He can’t handle being alone. Even if it’s that disgusting creature, he knows he’s not alone.

He pales and takes in a gasp of air, but feels a thick, viscous liquid fills his lungs. He chokes, tears filling his eyes as he to make a sound, any sound. Nothing. He tries to scream, feeling the tendrils work their way deeper into his lungs. His head feels light as if stuffed with cotton, and soon, his eyes fall shut, leaving him floating in the dark.

~~~~

“... rry… arry… Harry!” Harry gasps and sits up straight quickly, his heart drumming in his chest, pounding in his ears. He sees blurry faces and feels people touching him, and his body kicks into full gear.

He grabs his wand from underneath his pillow, pointing it towards the figures. Sweat drips down his face as his eyes dart to and fro from everyone in the room. He sees a hand coming closer to him, and he growls,

“Don't touch me, or I'll blast your hand off!” he says, knowing his threat isn't empty. His mind is running a mile a minute as he hyperventilates,

“Harry, I'm just trying to give you your glasses…” one of the blurred figures say, their voice soft and strangely familiar. Harry looks down at the hand coming towards him, and quickly shoves them away, knowing he might kill someone if he uses his magic.

‘I'm trapped’ was the only thing his mind could muster, as he hears a door open. More people walk into the room and he lets out a weak growl, scooting back in the small bed he's in. He faintly hears people talking around him past the ringing in his ears. 

Unbeknownst to him, Harry looks like a scared wild animal, pupils shrunken and his back hunched up. He looks absolutely terrified…

Harry feels something fall into his lap, causing him to look down. Oh thank God, it's his glasses. He quickly slides them on and surveys the people around him. Only one face registers through the haze of panic in his mind as tears fill his eyes. 

“You're alive…” he chokes out, reaching towards the tall, dark figure. Obvious shock is written across the faces of everyone in the room as he reaches across the bed, wrapping his arms around Snape’s tall figure.

Everyone in the room is in shocked silence as Harry hugs Severus, soon passing out again. Severus has to catch him before he falls to the floor, and McGonagall turns towards the children,

“Everyone back to their rooms. We'll take care of this.” She quickly shoos the students out, before looking at Snape, “Severus, please take him to Poppy. I'll go talk to the kids.” Severus sighs and nods, lifting Harry in his arms.

~~

Walking through the halls with Harry in his arms is a strange experience, Severus concludes. Many kids who are out and about watch him with wide eyes, and it makes him uncomfortable. He soon reaches Madam Pomfrey’s room and walks in. She looks up and smiles,

“Hello, Severus! Why are you- Oh my! What happened?” She asks, spotting the passed out Harry in his arms. She quickly rushes up, bringing him to a cot as Severus explains what he knows of the situation.

“How strange…” She says quietly, frowning slightly as she checks over his body. Severus looks over at him with a raised eyebrow,

“What?” He asks as Poppy searches for something, most probably a potion, in a cabinet. Poppy walks back, uncorking a potion and lifting Harry’s chin slightly, pouring the potion carefully into his mouth. From the look and smell of the potion, Severus assumes it’s a calming drought.

“His behavior is very… Strange.” Poppy says, looking up at Severus, her brow creased. Severus stays silent, watching her, waiting for her to continue. She takes a breath, “His behavior is equivalent with people who have been through a very traumatic experience; Muggles call this post-traumatic stress disorder.”

Severus purses his lips for a moment. He’s heard of this before; wizards and muggles alike coming back from war with crippling anxiety about everything around them, as if they’re still in the war. Of course, this makes little sense in Harry’s case, considering the most traumatic thing he’s experienced in his life was when he was a newborn. Poppy notices the thoughtful expression on his face and nods slightly,

“I know it’s confusing, but that seems like the most logical conclusion. If this were a simple nightmare, Harry would not have acted the way he did after he woke up. He wouldn’t have been so… Defensive.” She says with a sigh, setting down the empty potion container. “For now, we have to just wait and see what will happen next and wait for him to wake up. The potion I just gave him, as you know, will make him sleep for a little while longer. I’ll call you, Albus, and Minerva down when he wakes.”

Severus nods, letting his eyes sweep over Harry’s form for a moment, “Alright, I will hold you to it. Now, I must be going, class will be starting soon.” He gives Poppy a nod, before turning and walking out of the infirmary.

Poppy lets out a soft sigh, watching the young boy’s sleeping form. ‘What mysteries are you hiding, Harry?’ She thinks to herself, before turning to walk back to her desk and get to work.

~~~~

Harry lets out a soft groan, his eyes slowly opening to a stark white ceiling. Where is he…? Wait, where is he?! He shoots up from his sitting position, looking around quickly. His eyes meet a shocked looking Madam Pomfrey, and he immediately relaxes. He’s in the infirmary… Why is he here? 

Pomfrey stands up and quickly rushes over, gently pushing him back into a lying position, “Harry, you’re awake! Please, don’t get up too fast.” She says gently, looking at him, “how are you feeling?”

Harry clears his throat slightly, “I’m feeling fine, Madam… Why am I here? What time is it?” He asks, looking up at her. Pomfrey hums softly,

“It’s nearly twelve o'clock, dear.” Harry’s eyes widen at that; he’s missing his classes! “You’re here because you had… Well, an episode this morning. You woke everyone in the Gryffindor quarters, too.”

Harry swallows thickly, looking away. He prays that he didn’t freak out from a nightmare… didn’t he cast a silencing charm around his bed? He could have sworn he did. “Um… What did I do?” He asks nervously, worrying at his bottom lip with his teeth.

“Well, you woke everyone when you started to scream, then you started threatening the other students who tried to help you,” she says, watching his reaction closely, “then, when Professor Snape walked in with Professor McGonagall, you grabbed onto him and said that he was alive, as if he wasn’t.”

Harry’s jaw tightens slightly as he says every curse imaginable in his head. How fucking unlucky can he get? Of course, he had to grab onto Severus… He barely had a plan and it’s already falling apart.

“R-really? I don’t remember anything like that.” He says, trying to make his voice sound convincing. “I think it was just a nightmare…”

“That’s what I thought too, but your reaction was rather strange. Are you sure you can’t remember anything that happened? Can you remember the dream at the very least?” She asks, not sounding very convinced.

“No, I don’t remember the dream either. If I did remember it, I would be sure to tell you first. I’m sorry Madam Pomfrey…” He says softly, looking down at his lap. Poppy lets out a soft sigh and nods,

“I will be right back Harry, I must bring some people to talk to you.” She says, standing up. She walks out, and Harry’s mind quickly kicks into overdrive.

He has to think of something to say to them, he knows that Poppy must be getting Albus and Minerva, and most likely Severus as well… And he probably can’t face Severus right now, with the information he’s gotten. 

Harry takes a few deep breaths, letting his body relax. Panicking over the situation isn’t going to help anything. He tries to center his magic; something he does to switch his focus away from his mind. After he feels warmth flood his core, he calms down quickly. Magic from others always feels different, but his magic brings warmth to him. Strangely enough, ever since he seemingly took in some of Snape’s magic from his wand all those years ago, it seemed just that little bit warmer, calmer.

Harry lets his eyes open, just in time to see Pomfrey come back into the room with Dumbledore, McGonagall, and, of course, Snape. He manages a weak smile in their direction, nervously clasping his hands in his lap.

“Ah, Harry, how are you feeling?” Albus asks with a warm smile, his eyes shining softly. Harry shrugs slightly,

“I feel a little groggy, but I’m doing alright. Why are you here?” He asks, acting as if he doesn’t know why. Albus pulls up a chair and sits down, giving him a smile,

“Well, I’m sure you were already updated on what happened this morning. We’re just here to make sure you’re doing alright.” Harry nods, looking down at his lap for a moment.

“Yeah, I’m alright. I think I just had a nightmare, that’s all.” He says with a nervous smile.

“Can you explain your reaction to the other students and Professor Snape?” He asks, probing him for information gently.

“I mean, I don’t know exactly what I did, but not really. I can’t remember what the dream was about either, so...There isn’t much information I could give you. I’m sorry,” He says, sincerely sorry, just not for the reasons they might think he’s sorry about. He feels bad that he can’t tell them what his situation really is, considering he would feel a lot better if he did tell someone about it, anyone about it.

“Luckily we have two people who were there when you woke up, so maybe they can provide some insight for you,” Albus says, nodding in Severus’ and Minerva’s direction. Minerva steps up slightly, recounting her story.

“Well, I was having a conversation with Professor Snape, when I was alerted to a commotion in the Gryffindor dorms, so Professor Snape and I went to check on what was going on. That is when we found many students surrounding your bed, while you were curled up on the bed, looking almost like a scared animal. Of course, we had to intervene when you started to threaten the other students. I do believe Professor Snape should continue where I am leaving off,” She says, looking back at Severus.

Severus lets out a light sigh, stepping forward slightly, “when Professor McGonagall and I stepped in to intervene, Harry had just gotten his glasses on. He gave me a strange look and said ‘You’re alive’ before reaching forward and grabbed onto me, hugging me around the waist. He then passed out while holding onto my robes.” Severus says, his deep voice reverberating through Harry. He still can’t wrap his mind around the fact that he truly is alive…

Albus nods slightly, looking back to Harry, “Was this able to bring back your memory?” Albus asks gently, giving him a light smile.

It does, actually. He can barely remember it, but he does remember hugging someone. Now he knows that someone was Snape. Great… Harry shakes his head, “No, it doesn’t. I’m sorry Headmaster, I just can’t remember…” He says softly, hating having to lie to them.

“Ah, that’s alright my boy,” Albus says gently, giving him a smile, “just make sure to tell one of the four of us if you do remember anything, alright?” Harry nods,

“Of course Headmaster. Would I be able to go back to my room now? I think I’ve already missed my classes for today.” Pomfrey nods, helping Harry out of the cot. Albus rustles his hair with his hand, causing Harry to smile, “Thank you.”

After a few minutes of talking with the others, Harry is allowed to go back to his room. Harry lets out a heavy sigh, sitting down on his bed. This day has been completely hectic… He runs a hand through his messy hair, lying down. He will never forget to put up a silencing charm again… Harry quickly checks the day and time, noticing that they have to start flying lessons on Monday with the Slytherins. This week will be fun.

~~~~~~

Harry can’t help but notice certain… Growth spurts he’s been having. Every day he would wake up just slightly taller, crawling closer and closer to what was his old height. Which isn’t good, considering people are certainly going to notice. Not only was he growing in height, but he was filling out as well, lean muscles filling out his thin form the more he eats. Luckily he’s naturally lean, so the muscle gain doesn’t show very much. If he gained a lot of bulky muscle, he wouldn’t be able to play as a Seeker.

Currently, he and a few other Gryffindor are hurrying down the front stairs to the grounds. Luckily no one brought up what happened a few days ago. It’s a very nice day, a light breeze, not too sunny, and the grass look very nice, too. There are broomsticks already laid out in the grass, and the Slytherins are in their positions. Madam Hooch looks over at the Gryffindors,

“What are you all waiting for? Everyone stand by a broomstick!” Everyone rushes over to a broomstick, standing at attention next to it. Harry glances down at the old-looking broomstick he’s standing next to. He barely hears Madam Hooch tell the students to grab onto their brooms.

“Up!” Harry joins in with everyone, relaxing slightly at the familiar feeling of the broomstick in his hand. Sure, he hasn’t been able to fly for quite a while, but he always relaxes at the prospect of flying. It’s always calmed him down.

They all have to mount the broom while Madam Hooch walks up and down the aisle, correcting the student's grips. Harry has to purposely grip the broomstick wrong, otherwise Madam Hooch might suspect something. Suspect what, Harry doesn’t know, he’s just being careful. Ron snickers slightly when Draco is told he’d been holding the broomstick wrong for years.

“Okay, on my whistle…” Madam Hooch goes on to explain the exercise they’re going to do, so Harry tunes out her for the moment. He doesn’t need to hear the instructions; he knows they’re just going to hover for a few moments before dropping back down. Harry is brought back to reality when he hears her whistle, and he quickly pushes hard off the ground, hovering for a moment before letting his feet touch back down.

Neville does the same but quickly goes flying off into the sky. Harry watches with wide eyes, faux surprise written across his face. Madam Hooch yells at him to come down, and soon her wish is granted when Neville falls off his broom, handing hard onto the ground. She rushes over and quietly whispers to herself for a moment.

Madam Hooch soon yells to the students that they are not to move while she takes Neville to Madam Pomfrey. Harry nods slightly, and she walks off with Neville. Draco was quick to start laughing, making fun of Neville. One of the Gryffindor girls, whose name slipped his mind, yells at the Slytherins, and soon everyone is talking. It’s a bit overwhelming.

“Look!” Draco says suddenly, grabbing Neville’s Remembrall from the grass. Harry grinds his teeth slightly,

“Draco, give that here.” He says quietly, anger laced in his voice. Draco sneers at him while everyone else around them quiets down. No matter what, Harry despises bullies, and if he doesn’t confront Draco, he won’t be able to play as Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

“I think I’ll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find- how about up in a tree?” Draco asks with a nasty smile.

“Draco, give it to me,” Harry says through clenched teeth. Draco laughs and hops onto his broom, quickly flying up into the air. Harry grabs his own broomstick, ignoring Hermione’s cries trying to tell him to stop.

“Come get it from me, Potter!” Draco says with an ugly laugh. Harry pushes off the ground, quickly flying to face Draco in the air. Draco has the courtesy to look shocked at his ability to fly on the broomstick.

“Draco, if you don’t give me that, I’ll knock you off that broom!” He says, gripping the broomstick so hard that his knuckles turn white.

“Really? I’d like to see you try!” Draco says, obviously nervous. Harry quickly shoots forward, Draco having to dodge him. He just barely gets out of the way of Harry, his face turning even paler, if that was possible somehow.

“You want it? You can have it!” Draco yells, before whipping his hand out, throwing the Remembrall with as much power as he can, then flying back to the ground as fast as he can. Harry watches it carefully, before diving after it. He quickly grabs it, just barely off the ground when his broom stops. He steps off his broom when he hears a voice,

“HARRY POTTER!” He looks up quickly, straightening himself as Professor McGonagall runs over to him.

“Never in all my years-” Minerva stumbles over her words, obviously so angry that she can’t speak, “you could have broken your neck!” She says angrily. Harry stands his ground, his jaw tight, when someone says,

“It’s not his fault-” Minerva is quick to shut them down as they try to defend him. Minerva escorts him back into Hogwarts, her footsteps echoing through the hallways. Harry swallows, still nervous despite himself. Sure, he knows he isn’t in trouble, but the fear is still there. He guesses he’s still halfway in the mindset that Minerva is still Headmaster. The two of them soon stop outside of Flitwick’s room, and she pokes her head in,

“Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, may I borrow Wood for a few minutes?” After a few seconds, Oliver walks out of the classroom, looking confused. “Follow me, both of you,” Minerva says, not missing a beat when she turns and walks off down the hallway. Both Harry and Oliver rush to catch up with her, and she soon finds a room. She walks in and shoos Peeves out, before closing the door behind the two boys.

“Potter, this is Oliver Wood- Wood, I’ve found you a seeker.” As if on a dime, Oliver’s expression changes from confusion to delight,

“Are you serious, Professor?” He asks excitedly. Professor McGonagall nods, a small smile on her face,

“Absolutely. The boy’s a natural. I’ve never seen anything like it. Was that your first time on a broomstick?” She asks. Harry nods, looking down at the Remembrall in his hand.

“He caught that thing in his hand after a fifty-foot dive,” Minerva says, gesturing towards the glass ball, “Didn’t even scratch himself. Charlie Weasley couldn’t have done it.”

Oliver looks like he’s won the lottery, his eyes shining brightly, “Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potter?” He asks, and Harry looks over to Professor McGonagall.

“Wood’s the captain of the Gryffindor team,” she explains as Oliver walks around Harry, studying his body.

“He’s built like a seeker, too. We’ll need to get him a decent broom, a Nimbus Two Thousand or a Cleansweep Seven, I’d say.”

“I’ll have to talk to Professor Dumbledore to see if we can get him to bend the rule about the first-years. Heaven knows we need a better team than last year- flattened in that last match against Slytherin. I couldn’t look Severus Snape in the eye for weeks…” She looks over her glasses down at Harry, “I want to hear you’re training hard, Potter, or I might change my mind about punishing you.”

She smiles suddenly, “Your father would be proud of you.” She says gently.

~~~~

“You’re joking,” Ron says after Harry finishes telling him what happened. Harry smiles slightly as he takes a bite out of the pie in front of him as Ron continues, “You must be the youngest player in-”

“Centuries. Oliver told me,” Harry says, swallowing the bite he had. He’s glad that he gets to be seeker again; his stay at Hogwarts would be completely different if he wasn’t able to play Quidditch for his first year. Ron just stares at him with wide eyes. “I’m starting training next week. Don’t tell anyone, Oliver wants to keep it a secret.”

Just then, George and Fred walk into the dining hall and quickly spot him, rushing over. “Well done,” George says in a low voice, “Wood told us.We’re on the team too- Beaters.”

The two of them go on, soon talking about something before they quickly leave when Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle walkover to them.

“What, are you having one last meal before you go back to live with Muggles?” Draco asks, crossing his arms. Harry rolls his eyes, setting down his fork.

“You sure are a big man when you’re on the ground with your goons,” Harry says, sounding as disinterested as possible. He knows they can’t do anything to him, considering teachers are all around them.

“I’d take you anytime on my own,” Malfoy sneers. “In fact, we can do it tonight. Wizards duel- wands only. What’s the matter, never heard of a wizard's duel?”

“Of course he has,” Ron says quickly, glaring at the three boys, “In fact, I’m his second. Who’s your second, Malfoy?”

Draco takes a moment to size up the two boys behind him, before saying, “Crabbe. Midnight, alright? We’ll meet you in the trophy room; that’s always unlocked.”

Soon after, Malfoy and his crew leave the two of them. Harry turns to look at Ron, “What is a wizard’s duel?” He asks, feigning confusion, “and what do you mean you’re my second?”

“Well, there’s a second to take over if you die,” Ron says casually. He then goes on to explain in full detail what happens in a wizard’s duel, making Harry frown slightly. He really doesn’t want to deal with this tonight.

“Excuse me-” It’s Hermione. “I couldn’t help but overhear what you were talking about. You aren’t really-”

“It’s really none of your business,” Ron says, standing up. Harry stands up with him, giving Hermione a soft look as if saying ‘he doesn’t speak for me.’ He and Ron soon leave for their dorms, and Harry has to prepare for the ‘confrontation’ at midnight. Gods give him strength...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me explain; Harry has survivors guilt. It's a shitty form of PTSD where the victim thinks that they should have died instead of others that may have died.
> 
> I'M ALIIIIIIIVE!!!!
> 
> (Happy holidays! :D)


End file.
